Revenge Is The Act of Passion
by ladyvader99
Summary: Sequel to I'll Do What I Have To and You Make Me Perfect. The Joker knows Harley isn't telling him the whole truth. He lays a plan to catch her in her lies but what he finds shocks him. BatmanxHarley with Joker POV only at the beginning & end. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It is recommended that you read "I'll Do What I Have To" and "You Make Me Perfect" before starting this story. I think it could stand alone but it'll have a better effect if you've read the two prior stories. This takes place immediately following "You Make Me Perfect" and the Joker knows something is afoot. As always, read and review please.**

**-xoxo Ladyvader99**

**Joker POV**

No matter how many times he tried to cover it, it was there.

No matter how many times he personally went and dragged his nails across her scalp with dry soap, it was there.

That God forsaken_ scent._

He could be across the street and he'd smell the muted, spiced pungency of her skin. That maddening smell of another man.

He passed the hours she lay there, soiled with his seed, unconscious, her pale skin tinged with an unsightly glow from the halogen lights on the ceiling, pondering where that scent could have came from. When that blasted girl had stopped to catch her breath (no doubt distracted by something shiny), he'd assumed she'd show up minutes behind him at their hideout. Imagine his utmost confusion and wrath that it was more than SIX whole hours before she came to him.

He had sat in his chair, not moving a muscle, quaking with fury, mind swirling with the things he'd do to her. Then she'd arrived and it all flew away at the sight that she was safe. It all was ruined the moment he smelled her sweet, blonde pigtails and he felt the rage surging through his veins. What was it that she had blubbered?

"I-I-I was stuck in the rain, Puddin'."

The rain, she said! As if rain could engulf her entire being in a seductive blanket that left her curiously dry and smelling like a man. How stupid did she take him for? He could feel the now familiar burn of enmity flow through his veins, his heart pumping erratically. How dare she? His mind raced with theories, arguments for each one, vague guesses at who it could be. If she wasn't glued to his side 90% of the time, he's wager just about everyone. He contemplated further as he sat on the cool concrete floor, head to his knees, pale, bone white fingers clenched in his green hair.

The Penguin? He snickered to himself as he pictured his lithe girl under The Penguin's portly figure, not noticing how much more tightly he gripped his strands, ignoring the light sting of pain. Harvey? While he was sure he twisted such naive ideas of honor and goodness from his former doctor, he sometimes wondered if Harley put on an act of insanity for him but then she grinned in such a deliciously twisted way, he felt comforted that they were two peas in a pod and he discarded that notion. Crane? This one he pondered as Crane was as nuts as they came and by female standards was quite charming before he lost all sense and started wearing that burlap bag. He couldn't recall anything in his perfect memory about them ever having met so he decided to ask Harley when she woke. For now, he sat and mindlessly rubbed his scalp with his long fingers, eyeballing a frayed thread on the cuff of his dark purple pants as he listened to her steady breathing. He caught her muttering something as she slept and he stood, light cascading down his slender, pallid torso, catching on his lightly muscled stomach, chest, and arms as he leaned forward and planted his hands palm down on either side of her head. He hoped she woke up soon...he was getting bored, and a bored Joker was never a good thing. He let his gaze wander over her face, taking in her long, dark eyelashes, her now unkempt blonde pigtails held in place by cheap black hair ties, the smudged black make-up on her eyelids, her adorable, slightly upturned nose, those perfect cupid bow lips stained a kissable pink. The Joker felt that hated warmth in his chest and he growled deep in his throat.

He leaned in closer to her, nose to nose and wayward locks kissed her chin as his face contorted with his conflicting intentions of causing her harm and caressing her dearly. He was saved the decision when Harley's eyes fluttered open, her crystal clear blue irises adjusting the harsh light and he stood up to his full height as he looked down at her. She rubbed her eyes with a balled up fist as she sat up, but even then her head only came to his chest. He smiled to himself as he noticed her body stiffen as she became aware of her nakedness and tried to cover her skin wither her tiny hands. He crossed his arms, astounded it had taken her several moments to notice him and crossed the slight gap between them tilting her chin so her eyes met his. Those blue eyes (he always marveled at their brightness) widened in fear and he allowed a soft smile to grace his face for her.

"Harley. _Baby_." He crooned at her, cupping her face as she grinned.

"Yes, Puddin'?"

The Joker tightened his grip, squeezing her cheeks together with his bony fingers.

"Do you not know that I tossed and turned as I waited for you all night, sweet girl? Do you not know how it pains me to have to punish you?" He kept his grip strong as she began to wince in pain and started wriggling. He lowered his face even closer so his lips ghosted against hers as he spoke.

"Do you not know that every -"

He kissed her bubblegum pink lips to drive his point home with each word.

"- bit of skin is **mine**? Ever since you first came to 'cure' me in the asylum, all made up in your doctor costume, I told you as much, didn't I? I told you, you were mine."

Harley stopped moving, her eyes searching his and he kept his face as still as possible, hair falling in front of his violet eyes, until she finally nodded slowly.

"It took months to finally win that spirited heart of yours and dare I say, you've completed me."

He let go of her face and turned to pick up his shirt off the floor, watching her out of his peripherals. She touched her cheeks lightly, and he noticed her face flush as she noticed the dampness between her legs amongst the remnant of her costume. He smiled at the animated seriousness of her face as she scooted to the edge of the table, legs swinging in the air.

"Well is it hard understanding that I'm incomplete without you, Mistah J? Don't you see how I try so very hard to make sure I'm everything you need me to be?"

He moved in front of her in a blur, and held her delicate wrists in a vice grip as he stared at her. He purposefully let his voice hit that dangeous low, that guttural tone that excited her and scared her.

"Then where were you last night, pumpkin pie?"

"I toldja I hid in the old theater until the rain stopped! Ya know it messes up my costume and it starts to rub me wrong, ya know? I saw what's his name…Tony running past me so I yelled at him to tell ya! Please don't hurt me no more, Mistah J. I'm tellin' the truth, honest. Scout's honor!"

She wrenched her wrists free and held up three fingers in the air as she tried to hold her torn costume closed and he studied her face for signs she was lying. Satisfied at the lack of pupil dilation and head tilting, he helped her off the table and handed her some of her clothes he gathered while she slept. She grinned at him and slid out of her costume in a fluid movement then coquettishly began dressing with her back to him. He bent down as he pretended to tie his perfectly laced shoe and quick as a viper, picked up the cold knife off the concrete floor. Stealthily, with a grace only he could muster, he crept up behind Harley and pulled her by the waist so that her bottom was pressed against the lower part of his groin and she leaned her head against his chest.

"Now, Puddin', don't go getting all riled up, I'm just puttin' on these clothes!"

He maneuvered her several steps to their left where a mirror hung and held her gaze through it. The Joker slowly crept his hand from where it'd been idly sitting at her hips up to the sloping curve of her waist, crawled past her navel, danced across her ribcage and cupped one firm breast, careful to keep her eyes locked on his through the mirror. He felt a growing nuisance in his soft, plum hued slacks, and kissed the lone bite mark on her shoulder softly as he raised his other hand to her arm, the knife glinting in the glare of the mirror. He let out a hollowed laugh as her body tensed and he lifted the blade to her neck, using his leverage to press her harder against his growing erection.

"Darling, you couldn't begin to fathom what gets me all riled up. How about you tell me what you know about Dr. Jonathan Crane?"

"Jonat- Scarecrow? What do ya mean what do I know? He's a nutbag!"

He noted her genuine confusion and wrinkled nose and pressed his knife just enough to puncture her soft skin.

"Are you sure you don't know anything else? Perhaps you need a brief moment to think."

He watched her blink rapidly in the mirror as she searched her memory and gave her breast a little squeeze at the furrowing of her brow.

"I don't remember anything, really! The last time I saw him bein' an actual doctor was back in Arkham right before I was put on your case. It was years ago. Before that, we had been in the same Neurolinguistics class taught by that other weirdo with the beard, Strange. He was always starin' at my legs now that I think about it, Mistah J."

He pushed her away from him in frustration. He crouched in concentration, wondering who else Harley could have been with. He dragged the knife lightly across his scalp, scratching as he considered other possibilities. Harley kept yammering away about years past and he suddenly brightened as an idea occurred to him. Why not follow her? It took mere moments for a plan to form and all the details to fall into place, so when he refocused his gaze, all it took was the frightened look on Harley's face for him to notice he'd had a full blown sinister grin on his face which he quickly rectified.

"Poor baby. That old bastard wouldn't have known what to do with you! Let's go grab the boys and figure out a way to celebrate our heist!"

He slid into his crumpled white button up shirt, pulled on his green suspenders and slung an arm about Harley as they made their way to the room established as a common area.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the set up to what's going to be a deliciously twisted tale! I PLAN on updating once a month, but who knows, perhaps you can pursuade me to update sooner?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow! Thank you for the kind words. At the pleading from the four ladies reading this story, here you go! Chapter two in Harley's POV. R&R! xoxo ladyvader99**

**Harley POV****  
><strong>  
>Harley had been having the best dream.<p>

She was on the softest bed and the man between her legs was filling her to the brim, rough with each thrust but generous with feverish, demanding kisses. His hands were entangled in her blonde hair and began trailing his tongue teasingly down her neck, leaving love bites along the way. As he came close to climax, his dark hair tickled her chin and she giggled.

"Bats, I gotta tell ya..."

She didn't find out what she was gonna say as her eyes shot open at a animalistic sound (Bud? Lou?) and she felt the sting of bright light. She felt disoriented and confused as to her whereabouts and absentmindedly rubbed her eyes as she sat up. A cool draft wafted across her stomach and chest and she felt her face flush at her nakedness. Her hands grasped for the bits of cloth scattered around her in an attempt to cover up as memories of earlier came rushing back. Her head jerked up as she realized her Puddin' had been standing in front of her, and his icy fingertips caressed her chin in such a way that she looked up at him. Her eyes took in his warm, loving purple ones and felt her face soften in love as he spoke with that special smile he reserved for her.

"Harley. _Baby_."

She grinned as shivers ran down her back.

"Yes, Puddin'?"

He started to pinch her cheeks together with his thin fingers and she held on tight to the table she was sitting on. Her Puddin' didn't like it when she touched him while he was talking.

"Do you not know that I tossed and turned as I waited for you all night, sweet girl? Do you not know how it pains me to have to punish you?"

He started squeezing a little harder and she started to shift uncomfortable in hopes that his grip on her face would loosen. She stilled as his sensuous mouth came closer. As always she was distracted by the soft look of them mingled with the harsh scars along his cheeks. Her eyes glazed over as she melted against his kiss as he spoke to her.

"Do you not know that every bit of skin is **mine**? Ever since you first came to 'cure' me in the asylum, all made up in your doctor costume, I told you as much, didn't I? I told you, you were mine."

She closed her eyes slowly as she let his words wash over her.

"It took months to finally win that spirited heart of yours and dare I say, you've completed me."

All too soon, he released her and she groaned inwardly. He turned his pale body from her and picked up his shirt off the floor. She ran her eyes down his heavily muscled back, the gentle pull of his triceps as he lifted and reached. Again she shivered and touched her face as she felt a blush creep across her cheeks again, her other hand sliding down the remains of her costume toward her hot center that was already pulsing for him. As much as she wanted to relieve herself, she had things to focus on. They had things to do, didn't they? Even if Harls wanted to get it in, Mistah J would have something to say about it unless she did something for him first. She scooted to the edge of the table and started to swing her legs before she hopped off and found clothing. He said she completed him! Oh, Mistah J! Didn't he know she felt the same?

"Well is it hard understanding that I'm incomplete without you, Mistah J? Don't you see how I try so very hard to make sure I'm everything you need me to be?"

She always tried hard. Always. She blinked away a tear she felt forming and quick as can be, Joker had her wrists in his and she looked into his face as he spoke to her, voice low with that dangerous want that made her pulse quicken. She leaned forward to hear him better as she knew he'd speak quietly.

"Then where were you last night, pumpkin pie?"

She used every ounce of cunning she possessed and kept her face innocent as she lied to the man she loved. He'd kill her if he knew.

"I toldja I hid in the old theater until the rain stopped! Ya know it messes up my costume and it starts to rub me wrong, ya know? I saw what's his name…Tony running past me so I yelled at him to tell ya! Please don't hurt me no more, Mistah J. I'm tellin' the truth, honest. Scout's honor!"

She pulled her wrists from his grip and held up three fingers in the air as she gripped a fistful of torn costume to hide the shaking. Thankfully he seemed to believe her and as she sighed in relief inwardly, he held out his hand to help her from the table. Daintily she took it and leaped down, careful to land lightly on her hurt ankle. She also snagged the clothes he held out to her, smiling at the care he took in picking out her clothes. She turned her back to him and slid out of her costume as sexily as she could, trying her hardest to not put weight on her ankle. She giggled his way and her heart sank as she realized he wasn't really watching as he bent to tie his shoe. She sighed and pulled up her faded jean skirt, started when he suddenly crept up behind her and pressed her close. Her heart fluttered with happiness and although she was naked from the waist up, she felt clothed and warm in his arms. She allowed her head to rest against his chest and smiled.

"Now, Puddin', don't go getting all riled up, I'm just puttin' on these clothes!"

He gently shifted a few steps to their left where a mirror hung and she locked her cerulean gaze on his as she pressed her ass to his crotch. Joker slowly trailed his cool digits along her soft skin, first from where her hip jutted out just above the waistband of the skirt and then gently across her stomach. She trembled as he cupped one of her breasts, the whole time watching him. Harley started to feel a hardness begin to grow and she couldn't help but grind against it wantonly like a cat in heat. He softly kissed her shoulder, sucking gently and to her horror he lifted a knife to her arm, sliding it upward to her neck, careful to not mar her skin. She felt him grow even harder and she tensed up and he pressed her even harder against him. What was going on? She opened her mouth to speak but he spoke first.

"Darling, you couldn't begin to fathom what gets me all riled up. How about you tell me what you know about Dr. Jonathan Crane?"

"Jonat- Scarecrow? What do ya mean what do I know? He's a nut bag!"

She couldn't stop her face from scrunching up as she remembered the one time they'd fucked after class. A vigorous tutoring session had led to heated debate on whether the nature of their beliefs and experiences would have a better chance at curing psychoses and although she'd tried repeatedly to get him to understand the theories taught by their professor, he didn't get it. Crane had taken her frustration for pent up lust and kissed her with the crazed fervor of a virgin. At that point, the hormones of a 22-year-old took over and what happened, happened. The frigid scrape of the knife's blade brought her attention back to Joker and she realized he'd been talking.

"- Anything else? Perhaps you need a brief moment to think."

She blinked hard in her attempts to stay stony faced under the unrelenting gaze he had focused on her and struggled to come up with a plausible lie. She was vaguely aware that he was cupping her breast. Finally, she came up with something worthwhile.

"I don't remember anything, really! The last time I saw him bein' an actual doctor was back in Arkham right before I was put on your case. It was years ago. Before that, we had been in the same Neurolinguistics class taught by that other weirdo with the beard, Strange. He was always starin' at my legs now that I think about it, Mistah J. Even on days I wore nothin' but pants and more pants, he just kept right on starin'. Can you imagine how much I wanted to bash his stupid head in with a bat? I tell ya, Mistah J, you wouldn't have recognized me back then!"

She bent to look into his face as he had crouched low and her smile withered away at the look he had. She'd seen that look before. It was right before he murdered someone in the best way. What on earth was she going to do? She felt her brow furrow and tensed her body in case he lashed out at her. To her utter relief, he stood and in one quick movement pulled on his shirt and slung a lanky arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Poor baby. That old bastard wouldn't have known what to do with you! Let's go grab the boys and figure out a way to celebrate our heist!"

So he _had_ been listening! Harley slid her arm around his waist and happily led the way to the gang's common area where Mistah J divvied out some of the cash from the bank job, and laid out a new plan.

Wayne Enterprises was hosting a Spring Ball to benefit the needy children of Gotham that very night and the Joker wanted to infiltrate and steal the proceeds to fund a very large bomb. According to the Joker, the donations would be stored in a large vault right off the foyer inside the mansion where it held…the mansion of billionaire Bruce Wayne. He claimed to have very cleverly leaked the information to several informants so that multiple fellow deviants would make attempts on the money, leaving the heat off of them so there was plenty of time to escape. He quickly laid out the points of entry and strategy, using a blue print from the Gotham Public Library that, for some insane reason Harley couldn't figure out, were available for public use. Once their ten henchmen nodded their understanding of Joker's strategy, he turned his attention to Tony. Tony, an old lackey of Sal Maroni (and Harley thought she remembered him being a third cousin or something), stood with his arms crossed, not noticing the Joker's ice-cold gaze. Harley nervously looked between both of them and licked her lips as she quickly skipped to the Joker's side and touched his arms. When he failed to react to her touch, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear.

"Um, Puddin'? Perhaps you should let Tony off easy, ya know? He probably didn't mean to keep stuff away from ya and he's always been a hard worker for us, takin' Lou and Bud to the vet, bringing us groceries…what do ya say, sweetie pie?"

She smiled her absolute brightest smile and to her chagrin, he shrugged off her hands and walked toward Tony, stopping in front of him. Too late she saw the knife he still held in his right hand, which was tightly fisted around the cold steel. Without so much as a breath, she watched as the Joker slid the knife across Tony's throat in one fluid motion, marveling at the design his blood made on the concrete floor. Oblivious to the shocked silence, Harley bent and drew a heart with Tony's blood on the floor. He really loved her. Her Puddin' had just killed someone because they didn't tell him something important, like why she'd be late returning to his side. He really loved her. Harley was ecstatic and looking at her blood drawn heart, she clutched her face in joy.

She looked up at the sound of the Joker's voice, low and syrupy sweet.

"Pumpkin, I need you to do two things in the next hour. One: Find somewhere to break in, bathe yourself in hot water so you're silky smooth and Two: Find a black dress and a red wig to wear tonight. You're going undercover, Harls. Make Daddy proud."

**AN: Thanks to all four of you who reviewed this story. I was DEFINITELY motivated to write in less than a month so I hope you enjoy! If you'd be so kind, please continue reviewing and maybe I'll write faster AGAIN ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks to all four of you who reviewed this story. I was DEFINITELY motivated to write in less than a month so I hope you enjoy! If you'd be so kind, please continue reviewing and maybe I'll write faster AGAIN ;)**

Harley POV

Harley grabbed her leather jacket before she left, pausing only to briefly kiss the Joker on his red lips and she walked aimlessly as she thought hard on where to find a dress and a wig. She pondered momentarily on why a red wig, but didn't want to derail any part of Joker's plan so she shrugged it off. She spotted a bench a few feet away and took a seat when she reached it, wracking her brain for ideas.

Should she go to Red's?

No, that wasn't an option. The last time she'd stayed at Ivy's, her natural clumsiness had gotten the better of her and she had crushed several lily bulbs Ivy had been cultivating. Red had roared so loudly, you'd have thought Harley had stepped on _her_. She shook her head and wobbled her knees as she thought harder. A slinky black cat caught her eye and she watched it disappear in the alleyway across the street when an obvious solution came to her mind. Selina. Of course! What other girl would have access to a luxurious bath and nice clothes? They were roughly the same size, even though Harley was just a few inches shorter. Harley grinned and walked briskly in the direction of Selina's apartment. It took her under ten minutes to walk there and she was greeted with a darkened unit. Curious, she stood on her tiptoes to peek inside the windows but saw nothing. Harley frowned and sat on the front steps, thinking on what else she could do. She rested her chin in her palm and chewed on a fingernail, her gaze resting on the unkempt sidewalk and a curiously out of place chunk of concrete. Almost too out of place. She leaned forward and tried to touch the crumbled bit of gray with her fingertips and wobbled onto her knees. She glanced both ways and after noting the empty street, picked up the lump just enough to see under it. There, glistening in the afternoon sun was a silver key. Elated, Harley squealed and picked it up, again glancing both ways to make sure the street was still deserted before she tried it in the lock.

With a satisfied click, the door swung open and Harley smiled at the empty space as she made a beeline for the spacious restroom. It took her mere minutes to throw her clothes to the floor and slid into the hot water, careful to add just enough scented bubble bath to make her skin smell like lemon. She lazed about for several moments before setting to work on her hair, working her pigtails from their bindings and lathering every inch of her body in Selina's other lemon scented soaps and shampoos. She giggled at the bubbles in her bath and she threw some in the air, trying to catch it with her nose. Harley suddenly realized she was on a time constraint and rinsed herself off, careful of the raw letter J she had burned onto her hip. She stepped out of the tub, dripping lightly on the dark tiled floor and went over to the medicine cabinet. Luckily, it was fully stocked and she grabbed a bandage, which she applied with care.

Harley turned in a full circle, unable to locate a towel and shrugged. She shook like she'd seen her pets do and piled her hair on top of her head, holding it in place with one hand. As she passed a clock, she guesstimated she was in the tub for about 15 minutes, which left her about half an hour to dress and return to the hideout. Her eyes widened momentarily at the thought of being late but dismissed the thought quickly. The last time she was late, Mistah J was unforgiving and he spanked her hard enough to bruise her left butt cheek. Definitely not something she wanted to repeat. She walked through the apartment, peeking in closets and finally she came to one that was hidden behind Selina's bedroom door and she swung open both doors, a smile spreading across her face as she swept a hand across all the glittering dresses. What Selina used them for, Harley had no idea and she shrugged off the thought, searching for a black dress that wasn't glittery. She finally came to two different dresses, one with a deep plunging neckline and knee length and one scoop necked but bare back that would fall right past her thighs. She chewed the inside of her lip and chose the bare backed one, stepping into it and letting the other dress drop to the floor. She hastened back to the bathroom for her discarded underwear and pulled the red underwear on, careful to make sure there were no panty lines. Satisfied, she made her way back through the rooms, searching for where Selina kept her costumes and disguises. She didn't have to look far and found several within moments, again debating between the auburn long and curly wig and a short, fire red bob. Harley tossed the long hair to the floor and carried the wig with her back to the bathroom where all of Selina's makeup was and quickly applied eyeliner, lipstick and blush before combing out her blonde hair. She quickly French braided it and pulled on the wig, careful to pin it in place and looked at herself. Gone was the quirky cute charm she was used to and in her place was a seductive looking red head. She grinned at her reflection and went in search of shoes, fussy with the selection. Why did Selina have to pick heels that Harley would surely break her ankle in?

Harley groaned in frustration and chose the simplest shoes she could find that didn't have four or five straps to put in place, her toes peeking out the tips. Finally satisfied, she spritzed herself with some perfume she found on Selina's dresser and set out to leave. She hesitated for a just a minute, enough to grab a scratch piece of paper and hurriedly wrote Selina a note.

_Selina,_

_Sorry about the mess…I promise I'll bring back what I borrowed, I swear! By the way, your shoes suck!_

_Luv,  
>Harley xoxoxo<em>

She locked the door and surreptitiously hid the key again before trotting in the direction of the hideout. She flirtatiously batted her eyelashes at anyone she passed, trying out her new look with much success. She slowed as she neared the warehouse, checking to make sure no one was looking before she entered. Harley paused to smooth any disheveled hair and plastered a shy smile on her face as she poked her head into the common area. Several of the henchmen whistled her way and she graciously twirled so they could see the full effect.

"What do ya think, guys? Is it hot enough for Mistah J?"

Excited, high-pitched yips reached her ears and she shrieked at the sight of her fluffy pets, the hyenas Bud and Lou. She bent to scratch their soft heads and grabbed hold of their trailing leashes. She led them through several of the unused rooms, searching for Joker and finally she found him, finishing up the last of his plans, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, still unbuttoned. She bit her lip as she watched him for a moment and then Lou yipped, breaking the silence. His eyebrows rose slightly at the look of her and she sauntered up to him, swaying her hips. She adopted a Southern type of accent and brought her face close to his.

"Sugar, can you tell me where I could find a fella ready to help a girl like me find a place to party?"

She ran her tongue over her lips as she maintained her steady gaze, smirking as she did so. He stayed silent and ran his eyes over her.

"Pumpkin, you've made me very proud. Here is what you'll need to get into the ball . "

He handed her an invitation as he spoke. She turned it over in her hands, savoring the feel of the silky paper.

Miss Sandra Clare?

"Your primary objective is to distract rich little Bruce Wayne while the boys and I relieve Gotham of its donations. We should be done by 1am at the latest, so escape by then because it's gonna be a _blast_!"

He turned his back to her as he stooped to pet the hyenas, laughing with glee.

"Mistah J?"

"Hmm?"

"How am I supposed to get there? And why do I gotta spend all my time talkin' to lame-o Bruce Wayne? It's not fair that I can't help! I wanna stay with the boys and not have to deal with some bozo droolin' all on my shoulder!"

One look from the Joker made her close her mouth immediately and she pouted instead, crossing her arms. He slowly stood and circled her, his long fingers touching here, touching there, twisting a strand, until he finally came to a stop in front of her and rested his forehead against hers. She shuddered as his voice hit that low deadly note and she stayed still as he caressed her cheek.

"You want to make me happy, don't you, Harls? Just keep him busy. I've arranged for Marco to take you to the shindig. He's out getting a car fit for a princess and he'll also bring you back this time so you don't get stuck out in the rain. Now stop your complaining and leave me."

He tenderly touched his lips to hers and nudged her toward the doorway.

"And Harley?"

"Yes, Puddin'?"

"Don't be late."

She swallowed hard at his implied threat and nodded as she left the room, her heels clicking hollowly as she walked back to the common area. She glanced through the open door, sighing as she realized the sun had set and waited for Marco to collect her. He offered her his dirty shirtsleeve clad arm and she reluctantly took it and slid into the sleek, black BMW passenger seat. The chilly leather reminded her of another black car and another man. Her eyes widened in fear and she shook her head to clear the brief memory, focusing on the task at hand.

Distract Bruce Wayne.

Return by 1am.

Should be easy, right?

She ignored Marco's nervous chatter as he drove toward the outskirts of Gotham, her hands nervously fumbling over each other until finally they came to a stop in front of the largest house Harley had ever seen. She thought maybe it was even a bit bigger than Arkham Asylum and that place was gigantic. She quickly glanced at her makeup in the rearview mirror, smiled at Marco and exited the car, clasping the velvety invitation in her right hand. She walked up the paved driveway, weaving between various Bentleys, Mercedes and BMWs like her own and finally came to the gargantuan wooden front doors. She glanced around and noticed a brass knocker, which she lifted and let drop once. The door was immediately opened by a sprightly older gentleman with a thin mustache who bowed and extended his arm for her invitation. She composed herself and stood as regally as she could muster, handing him the paper while acting coolly distant. He stared at her for a moment and glanced over the invitation.

"Mademoiselle Clare, welcome to Wayne Manor. Please follow me, the guests are right through here."

He led her through several hallways and she began to hear cheerful laughter and clinking of glassware through another pair of wooden doors that the butler opened with a flourish.

"Please enjoy yourself, Miss Clare."

She waited until several people started to look her way and walked with her head high toward the first neat waiter with a tray of champagne. She daintily picked one up and took a sip, cherishing the smooth, fruity flavor. As she turned to face the room, she bumped into someone to her left, sloshing her drink so a few pale droplets fell on the pinstripe-clad arm. She grabbed a nearby napkin and dabbed at it.

"Oh, dear, I apologize Mister…?"

She tossed her hair as she looked up at the man, blue eyes drinking in his slightly rough, chiseled features. A flirty smile graced her lips against her will as he grinned down at her, dimples appeared in his clean-shaven cheeks. He took one of her hands in his and pressed his lips to it, winking at her.

"Please. Call me Bruce. And you are?"

Harley tucked a bit of red hair behind her ear and felt goose bumps run up her arms at the touch of his lips.

"Sandra Clare."

"Well, Miss Clare, would you like to see the balcony?"

She giggled and took his offered arm.

"I would love to."

Many of the party guests watched them with their mouths open and she basked in the attention as they crossed the ballroom. She noted where each window was and where several of her henchmen were, as they'd infiltrated as waiters and other party guests with drunken socialites on their arms. No sign of her Puddin'. She watched Bruce Wayne out of the corner of her eye, taking in his wholesome good looks as he boasted about the house, glorious though it was. She guessed his age was around 28 but in excellent shape. She could feel his bicep flexing as he pointed out different things to her. As they neared their destination, the butler from earlier tapped Bruce's shoulder and he excused himself for a moment. She kept her face blank but interested and scanned the crowd. She groaned inwardly as she caught site of Cobblepot's pointed nose and that stupid hat Harvey wore to hide his face. This could get tricky. As she craned her neck to see if that was really Edward, Bruce reappeared at her side. He touched his fingertips to her elbow lightly and gestured toward the glass doors. She smiled at him and walked to the wide, open balcony, happy in the cool night air. She rested her back on the stone balustrade and looked him up and down.

"This is quite the beautiful home you have here, Bruce."

"Why, thank you darling. You only add to its beauty, if I might say so. I would also like to extend my thanks for attending my little gathering."

She watched him slowly take a few steps closer to her and she straightened up, her face tilting up to meet his against her will.

"Anything for the children," she purred as his lips crushed hers.

**A/N: I'm incredibly amazed at the amount of feedback I've gotten from this story! Glad to know I'm not the only bats/harley/joker fan girl out there. I can't wait to hear your thoughts after this chapter as we start to explore Batman.**

**Xoxo Ladyvader99**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: It was done, so enjoy :DDD**

**Batman POV**

He hated these lengthy affairs he went through in order to keep the charade going.

It was tiring to pretend to be this _person_, this playboy millionaire juvenile everyone thought he was.

It was tiring going on superficial dates, attending superficial luncheons, and it was especially tiring pretending he was dumb as rocks. At board meetings he used every ounce of intelligence in completing his façade, texting during important announcements, even answering fake phone calls from "women" (usually Alfred) right in the middle of them, much to the chagrin of the board members with none of them more the wiser. He absorbed as much popular culture as he could on a daily basis, rubbing his temple to alleviate the migraine he felt at the inane trends people followed. It didn't matter that he was a bonafide genius; he couldn't ever show it while he traipsed around Gotham as Bruce Wayne. It had taken him and Alfred months to perfect this pseudo being and it worked very well.

The only time he employed his intellect was when making decisions that would affect his city. Bruce took extra care to keep the city safe and to the surprise of everyone who "knew" him, his choices exceeded expectations.

Take tonight for instance.

The Children's Defense Fund of Gotham committee he was Chair of, organized a fundraiser in order to open a new shelter for the orphans. In his characteristic show of generosity, Bruce offered his home as the venue for a ball to give the upper crust society the chance to let their hair down and boast to each other about their latest material acquisitions for a great cause. He pegged their reactions before it even happened. Nina Sharp, wife to Mayor Sharp, clapped her hands in delight and he could practically smell the jealousy she hid underneath her smiling exterior. Bruce smothered a grin as he walked away and heard Nina coo to Anna Smith, co-host on The Vicki Vale Show, about how she couldn't wait to tell her friends about the atrocious décor his old style home was sure to have.

Regardless of the petty behavior he had come to expect from most of the well off families of Gotham, he knew the turnout would be very lucrative for the CDF benefit, especially since he would anonymously donate a seven figure sum. Plus, it's not like anyone turned down a party at Wayne Manor.

As he arrived home from his office at Wayne Enterprises three hours before the festivities began, he was once again awed by what unlimited resources could achieve in just a couple of hours. It also helped if butler extraordinaire Alfred Pennyworth was your right hand man. Bruce declined Alfred's offer to take his coat and jacket with a light pat on the older man's shoulder, and instead walked up the gorgeous double staircase. He always marveled at the four minutes and twenty two seconds it took for him to reach his bedroom suite, first coming to the small receiving area he'd decorated himself with a deep forest green love seat and black wood coffee table that had two doors, one leading to a bathroom equally large, and the other leading to his massive master bedroom.

He laid his coat and suit jacket over the arm of the loveseat and loosened his tie as he made his way to his bedroom, flicking on a light switch as he entered. Without the several studio lights the switch activated, his room would be pitch black save for the lone circular window above his bed. He pulled off his royal blue tie and sat down on the edge of his bed, his head tilted as he thought.

Was it just last night?

He looked around his room for evidence of the steamy encounter he'd had with the alabaster skinned woman known as Harley Quinn. Slowly he turned his head, scanning first the bookcase that covered the secret passageway she had come through, then the hardwood floors and then the end of his bed. Right under his feet, almost hidden out of sight was the edge of a red shirt. Without thinking or realizing he'd reached for it, he found himself smelling it and breathed in deeply. Faintly he could make out the generic scent of soap, wisps of the fabric softener Alfred used, and there, almost completely forgotten among the cotton threads, was the smell of her. A sweet, almost flowery fragrance mingled with just a touch of sex.

His cock hardened at the aroma and he sneered at the feel of it, dropping the shirt back on the floor where he found it as he stood and undressed. Bruce's erection throbbed as it was freed from the confined restraints of his slacks and he groaned as his hand came into contact with it. He gently held his length in his grasp, remembering the slick warmth of Harley Quinn as he stroked it once and shuddered at the memory. After a few moments had passed and he collected himself, he released his penis and walked to his closet. He contemplated on wearing blue over grey, but smirking at his still rock hard cock, he chose a steel grey pinstriped suit, complemented by checkered white and black silk tie. He hung his choices on a hook reserved for such things before lying down and forcing himself to get some sleep before the party began. His sleep was restless and he found himself having dreams of red and black and sex. Alfred knocked lightly on his door, waking him from his light slumber in time to shower and dress.

He met Alfred at the base of the stairs and was informed of several guests' arrival. He smiled and nodded curtly, straightening his tie as he made his way to the grand ballroom. Pausing briefly to force himself to don the persona he worked hard to maintain, Bruce plastered on the grin that melted hearts and entered the double doors.

He made the rounds, once, twice, all the while pretending to guzzle champagne. In no time one hour passed and he made the expected passes at the single women in attendance. Two hours passed and he grew bored, sharing pained looks with Alfred as he ushered in new guests. Bruce had just been breaking away from the clutches of a newly single ex-"girlfriend" when he spotted Harley.

She looked stunning, and even without a light upward twitch of the eyebrows from Alfred, he would have recognized her anywhere. Her tall willowy figure was sheathed in a simple black dress that hung almost to her knees but when she turned to thank Alfred, he lost his breath. The back was completely open almost all the way down to the sensuous curve of her bottom. She had stuffed her medium length blonde hair under a scarlet wig that fell right under her ears and he was hard pressed to wrench his gaze from her shapely legs, legs he remembered quite vividly as they had wrapped themselves around his waist not even 24 hours prior. He made his way toward her, thankful her attention was elsewhere and maneuvered himself in such a way, she'd have no choice but to bump into him as she turned. Sure enough, as she moved her drink spilled onto his arm and she hurriedly grabbed a napkin to dab at it lightly.

"Oh, dear, I apologize Mister…?"

She had adopted a very believable Southern accent and he couldn't help but grin at her when she tossed her hair as she looked up at him, those bright, cerulean eyes meeting his much darker cobalt blue. She returned his smile and his grin grew wider when he detected no hint of recognition in her eyes.

Oh, this would be fun.

He made sure his movements were the sloppy ones of a buzzed individual as he took a soft hand in his and kissed it, winking at her as he did so. Such an action would appear gentlemanly and silly, which was precisely how he wanted to seem to his crowded room full of party guests.

"Please. Call me Bruce. And you are?"

She tucked a bit of red hair behind her ear and when she bashfully looked away, he wanted to kiss every light freckle he saw dot her nose.

"Sandra Clare."

Sandra Clare? He wondered who that could have been. He filed it away for later and stuck out a crooked elbow.

"Well, Miss Clare, would you like to see the balcony?"

She let loose a tinkly laugh and accepted his arm, blushing as she did so.

"I would love to."

Bruce felt a sense of pride as many of the party guests watched them with their mouths open. Criminal though she was, Harley was breathtaking tonight and clearly wanted by half of the male attendees. He surreptitiously took note of the room and immediately recognized 4 thugs associated with the Joker (but oddly, no sign of the Joker himself), Edward Nigma, Oswald and his entourage, and even Harvey Dent, failing to hide in the shadowed corners. He scoffed inwardly and touched a finger to his watch, activating the house security system, which immediately locked all windows and doors, and the cameras hidden in every light bulb. He kept up a steady chatter, inflecting his voice with drunken lilts here and there, about the most random of things: the extravagantly tiled floor, the gilded candelabra, anything he could think of. He tried to watch her out of the corner of his eye, gauging the various emotions that flitted across her face, wondering at the mystery of her.

Everyone knew her tale. The young, brilliant psychologist, given the opportunity of a lifetime while employed at Arkham Asylum, only to fall in love with the most dangerous criminal. Bruce had always been curious as to how the Joker manipulated and broke her and why such a promising doctor had fallen for his schemes. He couldn't fathom what made her love him. As they neared the balcony doors, Alfred tapped on Bruce's shoulder and he excused clumsily from her side for just a moment. His butler had noticed his more dangerous guests as well, as could be expected from one who knew everything he did. Bruce quickly laid out a plan of action in case things went bad, which he was sure would happen as the night continued. He returned to Harley's side, lightly palming her elbow as he gestured toward the glass doors. She smiled at him and arm in arm, they walked to the wide, open balcony, happy in the cool night air. She rested her back on the stone balustrade and he felt naked under her gaze as her red hair fluttered in the breeze.

"This is quite the beautiful home you have here, Bruce."

He took a few steps closer, the lure of her almost too much to bear and he caught a whiff of a familiar lemony scent mingled with that light flowery aroma he linked with Harley. He spoke softly, forcing her to lean in to hear his words.

"Why, thank you darling. You only add to its beauty, if I might say so. I would also like to extend my thanks for attending my little gathering."

He couldn't tear his eyes from her soft, pink lips and he gently leaned in, kissing her with repressed want and lust.

"Anything for the children," she purred as he abandoned all caution and sucked on her bottom lip as the kiss ended. He intended to pull away, to not lose himself completely in this moment but her hands snaked their way up his shoulders and entangled themselves into his perfectly coiffed hair, mussing up the strands.

In a rare moment of crudeness he muttered, "Fuck it" and lifted her so she sat on the wide stone rail of the balcony, careful to wrap one arm around her tiny waist and the other resting not so innocently above her knee. This time she initiated the kiss, her mouth opening up to his fully and he suddenly did feel drunk and dizzy. He immediately went on guard and broke the kiss until the disorientation passed. Outwardly he smiled lazily at her and after a few moments, leaned back down and kissed her softly, sensually and he let his hand venture upwards ever so slightly.

"Sandra," he whispered against her lips. "Would you like to see more of the house?"

Bruce knew this a tricky hand to play. He would be away from most of the party and would be at a disadvantage if all hell broke loose but he would be able to get information from Harley Quinn if he played his cards right. His number one target would be the Joker and since she failed to recognize him as Batman, he knew she hadn't come alone. He kissed her again and slid his hand under her dress and softly touched the edge of her panties, fingering the delicate lace he felt. She bit her lip and just when he thought she'd turn him down, she smiled at him.

"I'd love to, Bruce. Let me just freshen up and I'll meet you by that small tub you call a punch bowl."

She winked at him and left him speechless by the balcony. Bruce took the few minutes she was away to analyze the movements of his enemies. He glanced to the left and noticed Edward had slouched down into a chair, the delicate flute of champagne he held in his left hand dangling dangerously. He noted the red face and the overall disheveled look of him and guessed he was legitimately drunk and would be a minimal nuisance. He turned his attentions to the back of the room and didn't find a single trace of Harvey. Interesting. He lifted his chin minutely at Alfred when he caught his gaze and scanned the room for Penguin, keeping track of the four henchmen who were thankfully wrapped up in their partners. It took him mere seconds to hear the boisterous laughs coming from a small crowd of party goers in the north end of the room and knew everyone was accounted for save Dent and the Joker.

Just as he was about to activate the security system around the large safe in the foyer, Harley returned from the restroom and pressed something red and lacy into his hand. Bruce looked down and felt a tingle run through his entire body.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know I said I wasn't going to have this until the end, but the Clown Prince was begging to have his story told. Sorry for the bit of delay…work has been crazy and with convention season coming up, I'll do my best to update swiftly. Enjoy and R&R cause I won't update till I have four new ones! xoxo ladyvader99**

His chest heaved from the rush.

When the blood spilled out from the now dearly departed Tony, he felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The bloodlust in his eyes must have been readily apparent as each of the remaining minions took a hesitant step backward. Harley was for some reason finger painting on the cement floor and he looked down at her in disgust. He struggled to maintain his composure and gripped the knife even harder as he layered his voice with as much sweetness as he could muster.

"Pumpkin, I need you to do two things in the next hour. One: Find somewhere to break in, bathe yourself in hot water so you're silky smooth and Two: Find a black dress and a red wig to wear tonight. You're going undercover, Harls. Make Daddy proud."

He gritted his teeth as she stared at him blankly, her mind processing his demands. To his relief she nodded her understanding and pulled on a red tank top. He begrudgingly allowed her to kiss him as she grabbed her jacket and left. He waited until she was out of sight and then nodded at several of his henchmen. Four were heading to Wayne Manor after procuring proper attire, one to get a proper car for Harley's arrival, and the rest were to clean up the mess Tony had left until he was ready to put his real plan into action. He spread out the blueprints for the mansion and rolled up his sleeves, his mind working with various possibilities. It was true he'd purposely leaked out bits of intel about the charity event, hoping to draw in possible suspects. By design, he was hoping to ensnare the son of a bitch who commanded enough of Harley's attention that she stayed away from him for the first time in their…relationship. Oh, yes, Harley was his utterly and completely. He allowed his vision to fall out of focus as he thought back to one of their first encounters.

Poor Harls with her hair tied back so tightly, her suits doing nothing for that spectacular body she had hidden beneath it, her mind wasted with the fruits of organized education. He had delighted in donning his perfected mask of sadness and remorse but to his surprise, he began baring truths to her. Somehow, his many sessions with her stopped being about toying with her and instead he traded real stories for hers as he became obsessed with every detail. She refused to indulge him in his curiosity until he offered to trade the information she wanted (his childhood and life before crime) and it was only then that he realized what a slippery slope obsession was. If it wasn't that he wanted to yank her by the throat just so he could tenderly brush a blonde tendril from her face, it was the thought of pressing the fragile girl he caught glimpses of beneath her professional demeanor to him tightly so she never left his side.

The sound of a throat being cleared shook him out of his reverie and he glared over his shoulder.

"_What_?"

John, one of the four remaining henchman at the hideout, suddenly looked nervous as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"What you want us to do now that Tony's been dealt with?"

The Joker threw his head back and laughed.

"I thought I'd been clear? Head to Wayne Manor with the rest of the boys and start assembling the bomb. You would think you'd be able to piece that together when I point at the damn thing."

He turned to face John and grinned at him.

"We don't want to lose you, do we, Johnny boy? Now, get out of here. I have things to attend to."

John quickly tossed a piece of cream paper onto the table and exited.

He pretended to look over the prints he had already memorized and listened to the noise of whistling a few rooms away. Harley must be back. He could hear her high heels clacking on the concrete and almost snorted with derision as he could tell she thought she was being quiet. The high-pitched squeak from one of her pets earned her a glance from him, feigning surprise at her arrival. She ridiculously swiveled her hips as she walked up to him and he bit back a laugh. He pulled his wits about him and stayed stony faced as she spoke in a convincing Southern drawl, licking her lips shamelessly in an attempt to seduce him.

"Sugar, can you tell me where I could find a fella ready to help a girl like me find a place to party?"

He ran his eyes slowly over her, taking in the almost too red hair, the subtle makeup, the loose dress that classily fell to her knees and he brought his eyes back to hers and nodded slightly.

"Pumpkin, you've made me very proud. Here is what you'll need to get into the ball. "

He handed her the invitation John had left.

"Your primary objective is to distract rich little Bruce Wayne while the boys and I relieve Gotham of its donations. We should be done by 1am at the latest, so escape by then because it's gonna be a _blast_!"

He crouched to pet the hyenas, who were jumping over themselves for attention and laughed with glee, both at his clever wordplay and at Harley's ignorance as to what his real plans were.

"Mistah J?"

"Hmm?"

"How am I supposed to get there? And why do I gotta spend all my time talkin' to lame-o Bruce Wayne? It's not fair that I can't help! I wanna stay with the boys and not have to deal with some bozo droolin' all on my shoulder!"

The sound of her voice starting to whine stopped his laughter cold and he shot her a cold look that made her pout. He slowly stood and circled her. He touched his his long fingers to the waist of her dress, pinching the slinky fabric and then dragged his finger across her stomach as he walked. He came to a stop in front of her, a white finger twisted in the rosy strands and rested his forehead against hers. He brought his other hand to her cheek and gently stroked it, pleased at the light shiver that ran through her body.

"You want to make me happy, don't you, Harls? Just keep him busy. I've arranged for Marco to take you to the shindig. He's out getting a car fit for a princess and he'll also bring you back this time so you don't get stuck out in the rain. Now stop your complaining and leave me."

He brushed his lips to hers and nudged her toward the doorway.

"And Harley?"

"Yes, Puddin'?"

"Make me proud."

He waited just long enough to hear the others leave the hideout before he stealthily walked to the makeshift bedroom. While Harley had slept, he had slithered out into Gotham and procured several items necessary for his disguise. He stood in front of their mirror and gently applied a skin tone makeup to his face, neck and hands. He hesitated for a few moments before also smearing a bit on his lips to help dim the redness of them. He turned his attentions to his hair next and brushed it back, away from his forehead, using cheap comb in dye that according to the box, lasted for 48 hours. Satisfied his trademark green was no longer showing, he inserted the contacts he'd swiped. The looked grey but once in over his eyes, his irises were a muted dark blue. Pleased with the overall look, he briskly left the warehouse and promptly stole the first nice car he came to. He drove recklessly, jeering at fellow drivers as he sped past them and it only took him mere minutes to reach Wayne Manor. He discarded the car near the end of the long, straight paved driveway and jogged toward the side of the mansion, careful to stay hidden in the shadows. As he neared the wooden doors, he waited off to the side until he saw a lone man walking toward the door. Grinning he quickly subdued the gentleman and stripped him of his tuxedo and invitation, leaving him unconscious in the bushes.

He knocked briskly twice and bounced on the balls of his feet until an elderly gentleman greeted him at the door. He bowed deeply at the butler and thrust his invitation in front of his face with great fanfare. He adopted an airy voice and entered the manse.

"How do you do, sir? I can't wait to meet the illustrious Bruce Wayne. I hear he's quite the charmer but he probably has to be, no doubt. It's so nice he allowed us to throw this lovely gathering for the children."

He kept up the chatter and walked directly behind the butler as he was led to the ballroom. He again bowed his head in thanks and took in his surroundings. His keen eyes immediately zeroed in on the intoxicated Edward, sloppily slouched on one of the many chairs and tsked in disappointment. Edward was always entertaining to work with. His next visual target was the the very conspicuous Harvey Dent, compulsively flipping his coin while failing to remain out of sight much to the Joker's amusement. He laughed a little to himself and sluggishly made his way over to Harvey, nodding at each henchman as he went past. He passed a raucous group, having a laugh at the small, bird like man in the center as he told a joke and cringed. Oswald had been wanting a word about a partnership and the Joker had been avoiding him. Never do business with a bird. He relaxed when the Penguin looked right at him and didn't bat an eyelash. As he kept walking toward where he last saw Harvey, he was stopped several times by rich older ladies asking him to bring them champagne. Did he look like a waiter? He noted how they were all wearing tuxes and smiled to himself as he picked up an abandoned tray of drinks.

How perfect that he could go where he pleased and no one would be ever the wiser until his bomb went off in roughly two hours. He shuffled around the ballroom, passing glasses of champagne to random people, looking for Harley. When he reached the opposite side of the floor, he took a quick, sweeping view of the room, not seeing her bright red head anywhere. It was when he turned back around to pick up his tray that he caught a glimpse of her through the glass windows. She was kissing someone.

The change was almost immediate. His face contorted into a look of rage, his eyes glinting dangerously and his tray shaking with enmity. Almost as soon as it began, the red faded from his vision and he gathered himself, plastering a friendly smile on his face. The tall, dark haired man must be Bruce Wayne. He stood there and watched them for several minutes until she broke away for air and started to walk in his direction. He panicked momentarily and walked quickly to the first people he saw and hissed at them.

"Where are the fucking restrooms?"

The startled couple pointed it out and he nearly jogged over to the door and slipped inside, his heart pounding. He didn't bother to turn on the light and just leaned against the wood paneling, brain working nonstop. She was kissing him because she was supposed to distract him. Nothing more, nothing less. He had used her in this capacity before so why did it bother him right this moment? He racked his brain for a plausible reason but his thoughts were jarred when the bathroom door burst open and the light flicked on. Harley stood there with her back against the door, stunned and wide-eyed. She quickly locked the door and rushed to him.

"Mistah J? Is that…you?"

He rolled his eyes at her disbelief and pulled her away from the door by the arm.

"Well, who'd you think it was, pumpkin? The mayor? Remember the plan, distract him. Me and the boys are about to break into the vault so do whatever you need to."

"But, but Mistah J, I don't…"

"_Harley_. Do _whatever _needs to be done. Surely, you can remember how you used to get such good grades."

He winked at her, pausing for the smallest moment at the look of hurt on her face. He moved close to her and gave her a kiss, running his hand under the skirt of her dress. Her breath caught in excitement and the hurt look vanished. He laughed at her meanly and roughly yanked down her underwear as she yelped.

"Give those to the rich man and do whatever he wants."

He felt the briefest stab of jealousy at the thought of her and the golden boy of Gotham but he focused his attentions on the more important tasks at hand: empty the vault and deal with the Bat when he inevitably showed up. He waited a whole minute after Harley left before exiting and bumped into Harvey Dent.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Apologies for the lack in updating. I read many smutty things to get myself in the mood for what's to come in this fic so I do hope you enjoy it. I'm trying to keep the updates coming in less than a month for all of you loyally waiting. Many thanks to Deadrabbit92, SerenaMilton, and SerenaPotterSailorMoon, without your reviews, I doubt I'd have been motivated to write! Without further ado, here's the next chapter. As always, please R&R! **

**xoxo**

**ladyvader99**

**Harley POV**

Harley was beside herself.

In all the times she seduced men for her Puddin', she never lost control of herself. Ever. The sheer pull of Joker's affections at a job well done pulled at her heart and_ that_ is usually what kept her hormones roaring to go. At this moment, she couldn't keep her head clear. It might have been the crisp, clean scent of Bruce Wayne's cologne as he ravaged her neck and mouth like a starving animal, or it might be the hard warmth of his arms wrapped around her but her head was spinning. She felt faint for just a moment and then took advantage of the situation. She gently arched her back so her hot, rapidly moistening center pressed against him during their next kiss and he quickly broke it, just as she expected. She suppressed a grin as he reacted, again as expected, and trailed his hand toward her miniscule underwear. Their lips met in a soft kiss and she almost had to strain to hear his whisper.

"Sandra, would you like to see more of the house?"

Harley made herself hesitate just long enough to give him doubt and bit her bottom lip, noting the catch in his breath as she did so.

"I'd love to, Bruce. Let me just freshen up and I'll meet you by that small tub you call a punch bowl."

She winked at him coyly and walked away, sure his eyes were following the sway of her hips.

The moment her back was turned, her smile faded and she felt slight of breath. Surely Bruce Wayne expected her to sleep with him. That's what he'd meant by 'seeing more of the house', right? Could she do it? A deep part of her knew she could…she certainly had no qualms bedding the bat the night before. Her thoughts quieted as she entered the restroom and closed the door behind her, resting her back against it as she flicked on the light. Her eyes widened as she prepared to scream at the sight of a strangely familiar man leaning on the opposite wall, his arms crossed as he studied her. Then, she noticed the scars she traced those rare moments the Joker slept and locked the door in a hurry as she stepped over to him.

"Mistah J! Is that…you?"

She saw him shut his eyes as he grabbed her arm roughly. She couldn't stop staring at his appearance. That black hair and what had he used for his skin? Make-up? She felt her face flush with jealousy. What whore had given it to him? She would find out and kill her. Harley's mind flew with ideas of torture in the few seconds it took for Joker to speak. Her mind quickly zeroed in on his words.

"Well, who'd you think it was, pumpkin? The mayor? Remember the plan, distract him. Me and the boys are about to break into the vault, so do whatever you need to."

Whatever she needed to? How dare he use her like that! What if she didn't wanna sleep with rich Bruce Wayne? What if she wanted to leave right then and now? She again, opened her mouth, her brow furrowed in anger.

"But, but Mistah J, I don't…"

She didn't get much further when she heard the tone he used.

"_Harley_. Do _whatever_needs to be done. Surely, you can remember how you used to get such good grades."

Those words pierced right through to her heart and she felt a cold ache begin to pool in her chest. She remembered using her body to help her get ahead in school but it had been for _him_. Didn't he know that? Didn't he know that everything she had done had been to get close to him? Her face contorted as she felt the sting of lonely tears begin to ready themselves. She stared at the wall over his shoulder, her eyes half lidded and devoid of emotion as he kissed her. If that's really all he thought of her, she would act the part no matter the punishment. She vaguely registered his hand running under her dress and she focused the remnant of her energy on masking her hurt and emitted a squeal. He roughly yanked down her underwear and laughed cruelly.

Oh, how she hated that laugh.

"Give those to the rich man and do whatever he wants."

He stuffed her crushed lace underwear into her lifeless hand and pointed at the door. She forced a smile and left.

Her feet felt like lead as she walked across the large ballroom, remembering to keep her head held high like she belonged to this uppercrust class of people. Her heart felt even heavier if that was possible and she toyed with the idea of leaving right then and there. He really didn't give one shit about her, did he? Fine. She neared the balcony and zeroed in on Bruce glancing around the room with disinterest etched on that handsome face. He had just glanced at his watch when he caught sight of her and grinned, his face lighting up as she walked over to him. She leaned into his chest, pressing a kiss to his lips at the same moment she pressed her balled up panties into his hand and smirked at the sight of his speechlessness.

Mere seconds passed before he extended his arm and she took it daintily.

"Well, Miss Clare, you are in for a treat. I'll alert my butler, Alfred, to my absence and we'll begin the tour, if that's alright with you."

His politeness eased some of her tension away and she grinned up at him, gently squeezing his bicep.

"Why, Mr. Wayne, that'd be just perfect. I've always wanted a tour of this gorgeous little abode you have and especially…" she bit her lip for emphasis as she looked up at his through her eyelashes, "…especially where the great Bruce Wayne sleeps."

She felt him stiffen and she laughed as they walked toward the door leading to the rest of the house. She curtsied graciously in front of the elderly Alfred and again took Bruce's arm, chattering away about her fake life as he led her to a grand staircase. As they began their ascent, him chronicling his average day in a jovial manner, she felt a rush of déjà vu. To her knowledge she had never been to Wayne Manor yet she had the overwhelming feeling that she'd climbed these steps before but the last steps she had climbed had been with Batman and there was no way Bruce Wayne was Batman. She dismissed the thought and focused her attentions on her surroundings as Bruce talked. Everywhere there was what she was sure to be priceless art and pristine sculptures on shiny wood pedestals resting in between gargantuan windows framed by extravagant tapestry and she made a mental note to tell Selina. Selina loved art, especially when she didn't have to pay for it.

Bruce stopped in front of a large painting and gestured toward it with a hand.

"My parents."

Her eyes scanned the slightly faded canvas with interest. Everyone had heard the tale of Bruce Wayne's tragic childhood and she felt a slight twinge of sadness. Harley reached for his hand and attempted to lighten the mood.

"Is this how you get all the ladies, Bruce? You do the whole 'poor me' routine and they run to you, tears in their eyes, and ready to fall into your bed?"

He chuckled.

"You certainly are fiery, Miss Clare. Did it work?" He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, a boyish grin plastered on his face. She smiled at him.

"I'm already up here with you, aren't I?"

In answer he silently opened a door to the right of the painting and led her through. She stood by the door, feeling around in the darkness as he left her side and turned on a single lamp. The walls were a deep tan and sparsely decorated with a dark green loveseat and black coffee table and had two more doors, presumably one a closet and one leading to the bedroom. Harley walked over to the sofa and ran her hands suggestively over the back before settling herself onto a cushion, crossing her legs slowly.

"This is certainly a comfortable little room you have here, Bruce. Why don't you come and have a seat?"

She smiled invitingly and he didn't move.

"Would you perhaps like a drink first, Sandra?"

"I'm afraid I have to decline, Bruce. I'm already feeling quite…intoxicated just by being in such close proximity to a man of your stature."

She stood up again and walked over to where he stood by the lamp, allowing her hands to run up his chest to his neck. She didn't even blink and she somehow missed Bruce moving as he pulled her to him, kissing her with a hungry need. One moment she was aware of her surrounding and then all she knew was Bruce. Bruce showing her with his hands and tongue and lips that he wanted her that very instant and only when his lips left her skin did she open her eyes to find them twisted in each other's limbs on the little loveseat, her dress pushed obscenely high on her thighs and his jacket discarded, shirt untucked and tie loosened. She licked her lips as he removed his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. When Harley caught sight of the steel hard abs appearing beneath the shirt, her desire overrode her sense of control and she pulled him back to her. This was a million times better than anything she'd dreamed, be it the Joker or her one time encounter with the Bat. Her hands pulled at his shirt as she explored his mouth and skin with her tongue. His scent was driving her positively mad with need and she barely registered him pulling the dress down her shoulders until one of his fingers brushed her nipple and like a jolt of lightening, she felt a ripple of pleasure tear through her. She growled deep in her throat as she removed his shirt, straightening up enough to remove her dress and then she was sitting in his lap, her hands furiously working his belt. She felt his hardened cock reaching for her and she grinded against him, Bruce's head ducking down and sucked at her neck. This time when his fingers tweaked her nipples, she moaned as the pleasure jolted through her, heightened when he took a swelling bud into his warm mouth.

His hands, now free, followed the curve of her back to where her butt started and he grasped her buttocks in his hands, spreading her, kneading her, as she bucked against his still clothed dick. She had never felt so good, even when the Joker was soft with her. For one moment, she felt a trickle of hesitation and then she remembered the meanness of his remarks. With renewed fervor, she kissed Bruce again, tugging at the waistband of his slacks and underwear and she felt him smile against her lips. She pulled away as he shifted and while she was preoccupied with the thought of him removing his pants, his left hand crawled its way underneath until she felt one finger inside of her. The heat inside of her began to grow but then his hand trailed out.

"What, what are you doing? Don't stop, Bruce..wha-"

He covered her protesting mouth with his, turned them both sideways, and then he pushed her until her back was against the soft cushions. He kicked off the remnant of his clothes and she felt his firm, muscular body over her and between her legs. His eyes were dazed with lust and she smiled up at him deviously. Two could play at this game. She lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Bruce? I'd like to know something, if you'd be kind enough to tell me. Do you like this?"

She weaved her hand between them and cupped him between his legs and squeezed. She heard a guttural moan come from deep within him.

"Yesss," he hissed between his teeth and he quickly closed his lips over her neck and began to work his way down, his tongue flicking once at her collarbone, and then again at each nipple. He gripped her thighs with his hands, spreading her wide as he teased her, first kissing her navel, and then just breathing on her mound. She bucked her hips to him in anticipation, hating being exposed and he responded by blowing hot, moist air on that tiny button, his pursed lips mere centimeters away. He teased her a little more, taking her slowly, excruciatingly leaving her close to climax only to stop blowing at the last minute, leaving her panting for release. He grinned up at her devilishly and while she cursed him silently, she wasn't prepared for the rush of ecstasy the first sweep of his tongue brought.

Bruce sucked every bit of dewy come from her, holding her captive while she thrusted against him, moaning softly at each long lick.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:/ Sorry to leave you guys hanging at that last chapter _ Hopefully this more than makes up for it, lol. The story is taking me odd places and that could be due to either large doses of Marilyn Manson or copious amounts of Batman discussion...I'm unsure. Either way, enjoy and R&R! **

**xoxoxo ladyvader99**

**Batman POV**

He fingered the red lace, the blood racing from his head straight to the center of his perfectly steamed slacks. He swallowed once, then twice, his mind racing with lusty thoughts of sweat and sheets cool to the touch. This did nothing for his rapidly growing erection and he focused his thoughts inward, slowing his pulse enough to delay the apparent growth in his crotch area before anyone noticed. He cleared his throat and extended his arm toward the petite red head standing to his left.

"Well, Miss Clare, you are in for a treat. I'll alert my butler, Alfred, to my absence and we'll begin the tour, if that's alright with you."

He steered her toward the wooden double doors they had come in through and he grinned down at her, content in her obliviousness as to where she was. He dismissed the fleeting thought of her recognizing her surroundings once they reached the stairs as he knew she had been blindfolded and from what he'd seen, there was no sign of the brilliant psychiatrist.

"Why, Mr. Wayne, that'd be just perfect. I've always wanted a tour of this gorgeous little abode you have and especially where the great Bruce Wayne sleeps."

He froze as she said this, damning himself for not foreseeing that she'd definitely recognize his bedroom.

Shit.

The Joker realizing his identity when…when Jason died was one thing and the encounter they had after showed Bruce just how little the Joker cared about who he really was, but did that mean he didn't tell Harley Quinn?

A tinkly laugh from Harley snapped his attention back to the present and he soothed himself with the knowledge that she couldn't know who he was. She was easily excited, hot-headed, and loose with secrets. There was no way she knew his identity and had kept her mouth shut.

He held the door open for her, casually running his fingers over his watch again as Harley took up his arm and he listened as Alfred spoke into the tiny microphone in his ear, tuning out Harley as she giggled about life as a debutante.

"Sir, I have located the Joker. He is currently twirling in front of Mayor Sharpe with a tray of champagne and I have no clue as to where he got it. He's wearing some absurd getup that hides his eye color and skin tone, but at this moment, all seems to be well. Mr. Dent has also rejoined the festivities, chatting up a slightly intoxicated Miss Vale. Shall I keep you updated, Master Bruce?"

He grunted his assent as quietly as he could and realized Harley had asked him a question.

"My apologies, Miss Clare, I didn't catch that. What were you asking?"

"What is a normal day like for you?"

"A normal day?" He laughed at the thought of having a normal day before choosing his words carefully.

"I rise with the sun and Alfred brings me a wonderfully balanced breakfast and a cup of his infamously strong black coffee and then I head to Wayne Tower where I listen to people older than myself drone on about what is best for the city. They use words they think I don't understand the implication of and by the time I'm ready to gauge my eyes out, it's time for me to leave. I either then come back here to enjoy dinner or I choose to spend it in the company of a lovely lady like yourself."

He winked at her, delighting at the light blush that spread across her cheeks. They started up the red-carpeted stairs and he kept watch out of the corner of his eye for a look of recognition as they climbed. He thought she faltered for just a moment but disregarded it as anything more than a glance at this object or that. As they reached the top of the stairs, he broadly gestured at the large canvas painting hanging between two over-sized oak doors.

"My parents."

He watched her face as she studied the painting and he waited for the usual look of pity to arrive on her pretty features. Instead she kept her face stoic and reached for his hand.

"Is this how you get all the ladies, Bruce? You do the whole 'poor me' routine and they run to you, tears in their eyes, and ready to fall into your bed?"

He chuckled at her audacity and turned to face the painting.

"You certainly are fiery, Miss Clare. Did it work?" He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, a boyish grin plastered on his face. She smiled at him.

"I'm already up here with you, aren't I?"

He felt apprehensive as he opened the door as a silent answer to her question and took her hand. Gently he led her into the dark sitting room and as she stood awkwardly by the door frame, he walked over to a lamp and flicked it on, cascading the room in it's warm glow. He watched her take the room in, pleased with the light smile that crossed her face as she touched the back of the loveseat, trailing her fingertips along the fine Italian silk. She lowered herself into a cushion, crossing her legs demurely as she looked up at him.

"This is certainly a comfortable little room you have here, Bruce. Why don't you come and have a seat?"

She smiled widely and put her palm onto the cushion next to her. He couldn't bring himself to move. She made him nervous and he hated that. He needed to bide some time. Bruce felt the need to touch her, to kiss her in the same rush of adrenaline that told him to be cautious, to keep his distance. He gestured toward the crystal decantur on the coffee table.

"Would you perhaps like a drink first, Sandra?"

"I'm afraid I have to decline, Bruce. I'm already feeling quite…intoxicated just by being in such close proximity to a man of your stature."

He steeled himself as she stood up and walked over to him. How could he keep her here in this room without arousing suspicion? There was no scenario in which her seeing his bedroom ended well and he wanted to circumvent any situation where things needed to be violent…unless he wanted them to.

He closed his eyes as she began to run her hands up his torso, first palms flat against his chest before she dragged her fingernails lightly up his neck. Something inside flared to life and broke through his metal walls. He felt every nerve in his skin come alive and as he bent to kiss her, he gently tugged her hair so her head tilted back, her mouth open slightly. The brief millisecond she waited was all it took for him to channel all his need and want into a kiss that left him reeling. With every mash of their lips and tongues, he urged her backward and with every shiver he caressed a new part of her body, alternating between the smooth fabric of her dress to the satiny feel of her bare skin. The smell of her was intoxicating and he noted the faint scent of lemon mingled in her wig. He pulled away to catch his breath and noted that he had found his way between her legs, jacket tossed casually to the floor, the skirt of the dress pushed by his aggressive touch to the tops of her thighs. He smirked at the sight of his once crisp shirt not disheveled and untucked and tie slack against his neck. He grinned at her slowly as he gently removed the tie and slowly unbuttoned his shirt as he kneeled between her splayed out thighs. Before he was even done with the second button, Harley let out a quite groan and she jerked him back down to her by the collar. He soon lost control of his wits and again felt himself drown in that flowery aroma.

Bruce quickly touched a finger to his watch when he began to slide Harley's dress down her shoulders, deactivating the mic in his ear. Whatever the Joker had planned could wait. He gathered the fabric in one hand and yanked the dress from her body, his free hand cupping a breast and brushed her nipple with his thumb. She growled instantaneously and he felt the last misgivings he had disappear as his cock rose to full mast when she began to pull at his shirt, straightening up as it finally came off and shrugging out of the last bit of dress so it draped around her waist. He was in agony as she straddled him and her deft hands lightly touching his straining dick through his pants had him begging for release. As she worked at his belt and zipper, he couldn't resist bucking against the feel of her mound grinding against him. She had to be equally wound up as he was and because it was the only place he could reach, he suckled at her neck, savoring the sweet taste of her skin. As he moved down her neck to her collarbone, he pinched a hardened nipple between his fingers and her moan nearly made him come. He leered at her as he succeeded in shedding his shirt and wasted no time in sliding his hands down her back to her perfect ass and he placed his hands palm down, squeezing and pulling her roughly against his hardened member as she began to kiss him again. As he felt her finally about to release him from the tight confines of his pants, he leaned into a kiss, stealing her attention away as his left hand crawled its way underneath until he felt the slick folds of her and plunged a finger deep within. He thought about adding another to the tight space but decided he'd rather lick up every ounce of dripping moisture than waste it on his hands. He kept himself from laughing when she protested loudly.

"What, what are you doing? Don't stop, Bruce..wha-"

He covered her protesting mouth with his, turned them both sideways, and then he pushed her until her back was against the soft cushions. He kicked off the remnant of his clothes and she felt his firm, muscular body over her and between her legs. He looked down at her topless form and tilted his head when he noticed the mischievous grin she had plastered on her face. He leaned close when she whispered.

"Bruce? I'd like to know something, if you'd be kind enough to tell me. Do you like this?"

He didn't know what he was expecting but the moment he felt her hand between them he damn near lost his mind. Her small hand gripped his cock and when she lightly squeeze he couldn't stop a moan from escaping.

"Yesss," he hissed between his teeth and he quickly closed his lips over her neck and began to work his way down, his tongue flicking once at her collarbone, and then again at each nipple. He gripped her thighs with his hands, spreading her wide as he teased her, first kissing her navel, and then just breathing on her mound. She bucked her hips to him in anticipation, hating being exposed and he responded by blowing hot, moist air on that tiny button, his pursed lips mere centimeters away. He teased her a little more, taking her slowly, excruciatingly leaving her close to climax only to stop blowing at the last minute, leaving her panting for release. He grinned up at her devilishly and while she cursed him silently, she wasn't prepared for the rush of ecstasy the first sweep of his tongue brought.

Bruce sucked every bit of dewy come from her, holding her captive while she thrusted against him, moaning softly at each long lick. When he felt the last of her shudders, he hoisted himself up, wiping his mouth with a casual slide of his hand and leaned close to her ear.

"You're very wet, Sandra. I'm not sure how much longer I can be the gentleman."

She gave him a searing look and said, "I don't think you have a choice in the matter."

With one fluid move of her hips, she maneuvered his weeping dick to her opening and thrust him inside of her. It took all of three seconds for him to realize what had happened and he cursed inwardly as he struggled from control. He grabbed her waist with both hands and lifted her easily and he groaned again as he felt her squeeze her insides as she came away from his cock. He set her back down on the loveseat and turned her onto her stomach forcefully. At the sound of a protest he roughly covered her mouth with one hand while he adjusted her over the arm of the sofa with the other, her arms and elbows braced against it. He nudged her knees apart just enough for him to comfortably entered her and he did so without warning. She arched her back and as he began several languid strokes he released her mouth and held onto her hips as she thrust back against him.

"Oh, God, fuck me harder! Harder!"

Surprised at her outburst, Bruce complied and within moments, he felt himself again on the cusp of release and as he neared orgasm, he braced himself and thoughtlessly reached for her hair to inflict a little bit of pain with the insane amount of pleasure both of them were feeling. In one swift moment, he came and realized with dread that the red wig had fallen to the floor. It took Harley several moments longer to realize what had happened and in that time, Bruce quickly gathered himself, resting on his heels and crossing his arms in front of him, ready with a perfectly curious smile. Sure enough, Harley whipped her head around to face him in horror and he bit back a laugh.

"So…I take it you're not a red-head after all, Sandra? Is that even your real name?"

She grimaced and shook her head, her loosely braided hair coming undone.

"It's…oh, God, what does it matter? I'm going to be in so much trouble!"

She haphazardly pulled her dress back on and attempted to get her wig back on and in between yells of, "Oh, no!" Bruce couldn't help but laugh.

He walked over to her and gently pulled at her wrists, getting her to look up at him.

"Seriously, what's your name?"

He didn't know what he expected to hear from her but it certainly wasn't the truth. She turned her face away for a moment before stubbornly sticking her bottom lip out and muttering it too softly for him to hear.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"I SAID IT'S HARLEEN, BUT NO ONE CALLS ME THAT ANYMORE SO JUST USE HARLEY!"

He noted the complete abandonment of the Southern accent and quietly shushed her.

"No need to yell. There's a restroom just over there and you're welcome to tidy up and we'll head back down to the party."

She muttered to herself as she slammed the door to the bathroom and he silently wondered what had gotten her so riled up. Her disheveled hair had added a layer of chaos to the neatly put together ensemble and he had to admit, he had wanted to do nothing more than run his fingers through her hair. Without the garish makeup she normally wore, she was stunning. Bruce sighed at the sound of the bath running and he began pulling on his clothes.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Aaaah! Another convention done and over with and I now have roughly one month until San Diego Comic Con so I hope to have another chapter up before all that traveling begins! Either way, I hope you enjoy this next look into poor ole' Harley's mind.**

**xoxo ladyvader99**

**Harley POV**

When she felt the last of her orgasm leave her, she closed her eyes contentedly, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. She listened as she heard the brush of skin on skin and felt his hot breath against her ear.

"You're very wet, Sandra. I'm not sure how much longer I can be the gentleman."

Her eyes jerked open at the statement. Oh, Bruce Wayne, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.

She opened her eyes and mockingly glared at him as she said, "I don't think you have a choice in the matter."

With one fluid move of her hips, she maneuvered herself downward a bit and slid his weeping dick to her opening and thrust him inside of her. It took all of three seconds for him to realize what had happened and she smirked as he swore under his breath. She felt him still himself in an effort to regain control. She expected his broad hands to grab ahold of her and sure enough he grabbed her waist with both hands and lifted her easily and just in case he thought about removing himself from her, she squeeze her most private of areas around him as she came away from his cock. He set her back down on the loveseat and turned her onto her stomach forcefully. The rough movement caused her brow to furrow but at the sound of a protest he roughly covered her mouth with one hand while he adjusted her over the arm of the sofa with the other, her arms and elbows braced against it. She felt herself become excited; this was normally how the Joker took her, her hair lodged firmly in a white hand, and those red lips pressed against her cheek, his other hand roaming between her legs as he fucked her. A nudging movement near her knees brought her back to the moment and she wedged them apart just enough for him to comfortably entered her and he did so without warning. She arched her back as he filled her to the brim and as he began several languid strokes he released her mouth and held onto her hips as she thrust back against him. For a brief moment, she imagined him as her Puddin' but it quickly segued into memories of last night and another rough fucking. She began to moisten, excited again and as Bruce pumped into her, she couldn't resist calling out.

"Oh, God, fuck me harder! Harder!"

Bruce complied and within moments, she felt him begin to tense up on the cusp of release and as he neared orgasm, she came as his hand weaved itself into her hair and she gritted her teeth in anticipation of the sharp sting to come. In one swift moment, he came and she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach that her red wig had fallen to the floor. As Bruce withdrew she turned to look at him in shock and to her embarrassment, she saw biting back a smile.

Oh, God. Mistah J was going to KILL her. She had blown her cover, allowed Bruce Wayne to come inside of her (and Batman, if she was going to be honest), and now she had to think of an elaborate lie to tell about her blonde hair. As her mind raced and she stared away from Bruce wide-eyed, the sudden sound of his voice snapped her attentions back to him.

"So…I take it you're not a red-head after all, Sandra? Is that even your real name?"

She gritted her teeth and since she couldn't find the nerve to speak, she shook her head, feeling her loosely braided hair coming undone. She sat there and didn't realize she spoke out loud...and without her adopted Southern accent.

"It's…oh, God, what does it matter? I'm gonna to be in so much trouble!"

She haphazardly pulled her dress back on and attempted to get her wig back on and in between yells of, "Oh, no!" she heard Bruce let loose a rumbling laugh. She kept getting flustered as her dress didn't sit quite right and her wig wouldn't sit on her head right either and she felt everything fall out of control. She pressed balled up fists to her temples and struggled to think of a way out of this. She didn't hear him move but felt his hands gently pull at her wrists, getting her to look up at him, the beginnings of fearful tears stinging her eyes.

"Seriously, what's your name?"

She didn't know why she didn't lie. There were hundreds of generic names at her disposal but when she turned her face away, she whispered it.

"…Harleen Quinzel…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"I SAID IT'S HARLEEN, BUT NO ONE CALLS ME THAT ANYMORE, SO JUST USE HARLEY!"

She felt her chest heave with her building fear and he quietly held his hands up in surrender.

"No need to yell. There's a restroom just over there and you're welcome to tidy up and we'll head back down to the party."

She quickly walked to the bathroom he pointed at and began talking to herself.

"What were you thinkin', Harls? You told this random man your REAL name? A name ya haven't even used in years. What's Mistah J gonna say when he finds out? First B-Man and now rich boy, Bruce. Get ahold'a yourself, Harley and stop actin' like a whore!" she muttered as she slammed the door to the bathroom.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her hair wavy and disheveled as she lifted her hands and set about rebraiding it, tucking in strands of hair here and there. Harley turned to the door, set on walking straight past Bruce, but when she looked back to make sure nothing had been left behind, she spied the large, smooth tub and despite her restlessness, she felt a small smile and let her dress drop to the floor. She justified her actions with the thought that she probably needed to rinse off as she couldn't realistically go back to her Puddin' smelling like sex, now could she? She turned the water on as hot as it could go and lowered herself into the tub, feeling relaxed against the burning sensation flowing across her now red skin. Quickly she lathered herself up with the bottle resting on the opposite edge of the tub and rinsed off, patting herself dry with a plain black towel. She kept her breathing slow and steady so that by the time she was redressed and her clothes and wig were on again properly, she felt calm and walked out of the restroom. Bruce was now fully dressed and sat on his beautifully green sofa, an imposing presence and she sniffed the air, catching a light scent of cologne. She stepped forward confidently and held out her hand.

"Shall we return to the party, Mr. Wayne? I do believe we've kept your guests waiting for quite some time now."

To her surprise, his face wrinkled up as she spoke with her clipped Southern accent but he said nothing and stood.

"I liked it better when you spoke how you really are…Harley."

She shook her head at him.

"It's much safer, if you continue to call me Sandra, Bruce."

As they walked arm and arm back through the cavernous hallways, she noted how quiet he was and snuck glances at him from the corner of her eyes. With luck, he wouldn't mention her real name anymore and things would return to normal long enough for Joker to pull off the job and they could leave and she wouldn't have to worry incessantly about her slip up. To her dismay, Bruce stopped and looked down at her.

"Harley…as in 'Harley Quinn', accomplice to insane killer The Joker?"

She gulped and abandoned all hope of this.

"Look, Brucey. Either ya drop the whole you know my name thing or I'm warnin' ya, Mistah J isn't gonna like it too much. Yes, I am his _partner._ I'm not here to hurt ya."

"But he is? Will he injure my guests?"

"Not if you're outta the way, honey. Just follow my lead and no one is gonna get hurt."

She felt sad as she said this as it was very rare for no one to get hurt during one of her lover's schemes. With a bomb blowing up, she didn't think this was going to be the case but there was no need to worry Bruce Wayne about such a thing, was there? Harley turned away from Bruce and began walking down the stairs toward the ballroom. He caught up with her right as they reached the door and she turned to him one last time.

"Smiles on Brucey!"

She winked at him and as she was about to open the doors, someone opened them from the other side. She blinked, expecting the lithe, older butler but instead came face to face with her Puddin' in his disguise. She gave him a bright smile but faltered when she scanned his stoic face and dead eyes. His nostrils flared once, twice and she saw the slight narrowing of his eyes as he grinned that cruel grin and she felt that twist in the pit of her stomach.

Oh, no. Somehow he knew, he _knew_.

She fought the urge to wring her hands and grinned at him instead.

"Why hello, sir, am I in your way? Excuse Mr. Wayne and I, if you would, sugar."

She kept her smile on as she walked past him and only when he was out of her line of sight did she fight for breath. She felt a comforting hand on her lower back and she looked gratefully at Bruce, fighting to keep her calm. He seemed oblivious to what had just passed between them and he touched his watch, checking the time, before steering them to a table.

"You know," he started to say before lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper, "Harley, I'm kind of intrigued by your whole criminal persona. It's quite…sexy."

She stared at him wide-eyed, her feelings conflicted because one, he was staring at her so intently with those dark, deep blue eyes, two because he kept saying her damn name, three because she was utterly afraid of what was to come, and four because she felt butterflies at the sight of a dimple appearing when he smiled at her.

She licked her lips and looked around the room, spying Harvey nearly sprinting across the room, Eddie now passed out on the perfectly waxed floor, Oswald still laughing it up with the snotty elite and a lone woman in a blonde wig staring their way. She pretended to be bashful and looked down at her hands, sneaking a glance at Bruce's watch.

12:30am.

She only had to keep his attention for thirty more minutes and she could leave and not feel this way. She leaned over to Bruce and planted a soft kiss on his lightly stubbled cheek.

"I appreciate you saying such things, but forget you've ever met me after tonight. Nothing but trouble will come your way if you try to find me. I won't save you, I won't help you, and I won't be able to …AAAAAAAGH!"

She yelled out in pain as someone pulled her wig, catching some of her actual hair in a vice grip that was unyielding. Bruce stood up in her defense, catching hold of a slender wrist, one that belonged to the blonde haired woman who had been watching them. As Harley quickly tried to make sure everything was in place, her face paled in recognition. Those catlike green eyes pierced right through her, a fury in them that matched the angry flush across her face. She was several inches taller than Harley, and her curled, waist length blonde wig made her skin look porcelain in the flirty red dress she wore. She was about to say something when Bruce spoke.

"Selina! Where have you been? I have been searching high and low for you, ever since … do you know how worried I've been? I've had Alfred use every tool at his disposal to track you down."

He seemed to realize Harley was still with them, staring at them both inquisitively and she noted how strained his voice sounded.

So Bruce had something going on with Selina? Did Batman know? She smugly grinned up at Selina, knowing the woman hated anyone having dirt on her and crossed her arms.

"Well, well, well. Who is this strumpet, Bruce?" she purred up at him.

If looks could kill, Harley would be dead at the daggers Selina was shooting her way.

"Oh, don't you give me that bullshit, Harley. AND IS THAT MY DRESS!"

**A/N: Quite the sticky situation, ain't it :) Leave me nice things to read guys!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I can't apologize enough for leaving you all high and dry while i galloped off for lands yonder (SDCC). I thought I'd have time to continue the story before I left but sweet jesus, i was thoroughly unprepared for a convention of that scope. either way, i hope you forgive me! here's a peek into the mind of that other slinky female, selina kyle. batman is next :) leave me your thoughts and i SWEAR i'll update quickly next time! **

**xoxo ladyvader99**

**Selina POV**

After their last encounter, she had been in chaos. Her head had felt heavy with all that emotion swirling in it, so in the darkest hour of night, she utilized every stealthy skill she had and quietly slipped out of the she walked the six miles back to the city, her brain worked incessantly in an attempt to sort out her feelings. That's what scared her, wasn't it? This growing warmth she felt in her chest each time he showed up, be it with cape swirling behind him or tie loosened in a flawless suit?

She didn't return to her apartment that night.

Selina instead went to one of her safehouses and picked up a small suitcase and ran. She boarded a plane to the opposite coast with the hopes of sorting herself out before returning. That had been roughly three months prior and as she landed in Gotham, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. It was time to see him again. She bit her lip as she grinned, planning on the best way to announce her return. Full costume on the roof of the Gotham City Police Department after lighting his signal so it beamed across the sky? She did like the feel of his leather rubbing against hers. She hailed a cab and jetted off to her slightly abandoned apartment, pausing at the threshold as she noticed the misplaced stone that covered her backup key. Her carefully plucked eyebrow lifted in thought as she turned her key in the lock, also noticing the door was unlocked. She closed her front door silently, ears listening for any sign of movement as she ghosted across her floor, bag in hand, breath muted.

The faint lemon scent of her body wash greeted her nose as she crept across her living room and she paused before entering the rest of the apartment. Her green eyes narrowed as she saw a boot by her table and the other in the doorway to her restroom, and she felt her face begin to heat up in annoyance as she passed discarded items a clothing: first a red top, then a black jacket, and finally a denim closed her eyes in anger as she stepped into a pile of water on the floor of her bathroom and counted to ten. Her immaculate bathroom was now in disarray. Toiletries lie on their sides, lids open, and in the case of her body wash, slowly dripping product down

the drain.

This mess could only be attributed to one person: Harley.

As if to cement this conclusion further, she rolled her eyes at the tiny letter "J" pendant laying on her closet floor, near a folded piece of paper and a now tangled, particularly expensive auburn wig. She bent down to pick up the nearly crushed paper, dropping her purse to the hardwood floor with a light thud. She smirked at the almost illegible print of the once Doctor Quinzel and set about tidying her place.

As the sun began to set, Selina began to get ready to call the Bat. She lazily flicked on the television as she shrugged into her skin tight leather/kevlar/lycra blend, specially made catsuit, careful to not get herself caught in the zipper. As she adjusted herself and pulled on her cowl, the name "Bruce Wayne" caught her attention from the television.

"...reporting live from the event of the season! Gotham's resident billionaire bachelor, Bruce Wayne, is hosting a fundraiser for the CDFG so that several new shelters can be opened to help house and care for the local orphans. Among the guests are fellow reporter Vicki Vale and notable scienti- Oh, my goodness! The Mayor just arrived! Mayor Sharpe!"

Selina slumped down onto her sofa and groaned. If old boy was playing host to the fake and glamorous, he would be unavailable for several hours...unless she came to him.

Quick as a cat, she slinked her way to the closet and chose something sure to catch his eye: a red sweetheart cut strapless number with a flouncy skirt. Grinning at the thought of seeing him again, even just for a moment, she felt her heart swell with joy and she quickly grabbed a blonde wig, pausing as she left just long enough to let a stray black cat inside her home and waltzed toward the street.

As she arrived, she made sure to bump into Vicki Vale's plus one (a mousy girl lugging around several bags as Miss Vale barked orders) and liberated an invite from her blazer pocket, which she brandished elaborately for the elderly butler, a gent who hardly batted an eyelash before leading her inside the mansion. Smirking at how well her disguise seemed to be working, Selina inwardly fought to keep her inner thief from working on overtime at the sight of so many jewels. They seemed to taunt her with their glittering colors and she took an elegant flute of champagne from a vaguely familiar waiter. She cocked an eyebrow as she tried to get a better look at him, while she waited for Bruce to make an appearance, but he moved too quickly.

It felt like an eternity as she stood there, sipping glass after glass of champagne, her face beginning to flush from the alcohol in her system on an empty stomach, her head beginning to spin as she watched the party attendees gossip in a swirl of color and glitter. With a start, she realized the drunk man in a green tie who was trying to get her attention was Eddie and she quickly walked over to him.

"Eddie? What are you doing here? I thought you were laying low?" she hissed at him.

He groaned up at her, his drink sloshing dangerously in his lopsided grip.

"How's about a riddle, Kitty?"

She wrinkled her nose at the overpowering scent of his breath and held him at an arm's length away.

"Ugh, Eddie, how much have you had to drink? Can the riddles and tell me what you're doing here."

He blinked at her, his red rimmed eyes slowly focusing on her.

"For the same reason you're here, Ozzie's here, and ole Harv is here. The** money**."

"What money?"

"The money crazy Jokey is gonna blow out of the parlor in about, oh twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes? Her eyes widened at his slurred words and she clutched his shirt fervently.

"Where is the Joker?"

Eddie's eyes began to roll back into his head and he mumbled something as he half heartedly pointed at the opposite end of the ballroom. She stepped away from the now snoozing Edward Nigma, glancing at each person she passed surreptitiously. The only people she saw were the two faced members of high society and several waiters circulating their trays among them. She sighed in exasperation and whirled around to find the butler in hopes of alerting him to the possible chaos when she stopped dead in her tracks.

Bruce had just walked in and he had walked in with someone.

A slightly shorter, curvaceous redhead was on his arm, chattering away into his ear, but Selina felt her heart fall into her stomach as Bruce laughed at something she said, his smile reaching all the way into his eyes as they crinkled.

He wasn't faking his good humor.

She leaned against a table covered in fine, white silk and gripped a handful of fabric in her fist so hard her knuckles turned white.

Who was this bitch? As she studied her animated way of talking, she begrudgingly approved of her slinky black dress.

Was she so forgettable that he moved on in as little as three months? Okay, sure, she didn't quite say goodbye, but she expected a little longer than three months!

Her green eyes shot daggers at the girl as she forced herself to remain expressionless. Her mind raced with rampant despair as she steeled herself to walk past him to get his attention. He would come to her. She waited until the redhead led Bruce to a table and began an agonizing walk toward their table.

For a brief moment, all thoughts of her feelings abandoned her at the sight of Harvey nearly sprinting across the ballroom and she locked eyes with the butler before redirecting her attention to the couple.

The redhead was leaning in and kissing Bruce.

Before she could stop herself, Selina walked right over and yanked on the redhead's hair to stop her. As she pulled her head back, she leaned in, her eyes ready to glare right into the soul of this slut. She wasn't ready to meet the gaze of her friend and sometimes partner, Harley Quinn. She opened her mouth to question her relentlessly when Bruce spoke first.

"Selina! Where have you been? I have been searching high and low for you, ever since … do you know how worried I've been? I've had Alfred use every tool at his disposal to track you down."

Her face softened at the way he said her name and she heard the sadness underlying his otherwise normal tone. It seemed like the few seconds they looked at each other lasted for years, her green ones searching his deep blues, hoping that everything unsaid was coming across clearly. The moment was broken as a swift movement of Harley crossing her arms caught her attention.

"Well, well, well. Who is this strumpet, Bruce?" she purred up at him.

Strumpet!

She tightened her face in fury. What kind of game was Harley playing at? She knew Selina was involved -

Wait. She knew Selina was involved with Batman. Not Bruce Wayne. As she lowered her eyes from Harley's in relief, she suddenly recognized the dress she was wearing and felt her anger return.

"Oh, don't you give me that bullshit, Harley. AND IS THAT MY DRESS! How could you just take my things?"

Before Harley could even answer, Bruce softly touched her elbow.

"Selina? Could I talk to you in private for just one moment?"

She nodded and they walked several feet away, just out of earshot.

"I don't suppose you'd like to tell me what you're doing with Harley?" Her attempts at keeping the bitterness out of her voice failed.

She hated that he did this to her, reduced her simmering confidence to nothing, so she felt like an awkward teenager.

"It's...nothing. Where did you go for three months should be the more important question."

He stared at her, waiting for an answer and she felt all her well rehearsed answers fly out the window.

"I just couldn't...Now isn't the time, Bruce. I'm sure you're aware that the Joker is planning some sort of explosion in about fifteen minutes? Apparently, the bird and Two Face are also here running around. Gotta say, that's a bit more than a girl can handle."

"Of course I am aware. I alerted Alfred and activated all the alarms while keeping tabs on each member of my villainous counterparts. Answer me, Selina. Where did you go?"

She searched herself for an answer that would satisfy him and allowed herself to gaze at his face, along that chiseled jaw she loved to caress, those lips that bit at hers in moments of embrace, and she suddenly realized he had a bruise forming on his neck...not a bruise, a hickey.

"What does it matter? You've kept yourself busy with Harley, haven't you? A little rough tumble in the old Wayne mansion probably made those months seem like hours for you. You should probably focus on clearing out all these people, Bruce, preferably before they realize you're the Bat." She hated the steely sound of her voice and the subtle way Bruce's face hardened, but she was hurt. He nodded firmly at her and whispered something to Harley before leaving them both. Selina slowly turned back around and walked toward the little table Harley sat at and placed her hands palm down on the table.

"So, how about you fill me in on what is going on between you and Bruce Wayne, _Harleen_?"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I can only apologize so much for the delay until it begins to ring insincere, so instead, I will post up this chapter and let you guys know that there is only one left. It's been a hard finish to do, but all good things must come to an end. I can't wait for you to read the ending, so until then, enjoy and R&R  
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**- ladyvader99  
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**Bruce POV**

Bruce dressed quietly, his mind whirring incessantly. He ran a finger over his cufflinks, activing the camera in his contact lense and watched Alfred secure the ballroom with a practiced ease. He dimly registered the sound of Harley Quinn emerging from the bathroom, as he shuffled through the various feeds with casual blinks of his eye. Her sudden voice broke his concentration and he noted her facial expression as he stood up. He would need to do better at masking his emotions. Without further thought, he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind, completely ignoring her unheard question.

"I liked it better when you spoke how you really are…Harley."

He was curious to analyze why he initiated conversation at a later point. Surely they both knew that any further involvement with one another would lead to conflicting interests and to his relief, she shook her head at him.

"It's much safer, if you continue to call me Sandra, Bruce."

He again noted the careful way she spoke, and pondered what she meant. Was that her way of protecting him from her lover, the pale faced Joker? Or perhaps it had a deeper meaning in that this was how she was protecting herself? Knowing what he did about the early days of Harley Quinn, this could very well be the motive behind her hesitant demeanor now. He linked his arm with Harley's as they made their way back to the ballroom and he struggled to keep his playboy persona going with mindless chatter, but to his dismay, he again asked the first thing he thought of instead of the many thought out and planned conversation points he could have asked.

"Harley…as in 'Harley Quinn', accomplice to insane killer The Joker?"

He cursed himself silently as she looked down sadly and pulled her arm from his. He didn't understand why he didn't stick to the charade and why he asked her questions he knew the answer to. Her normally cheerful voice dropped an octave or two and he strained to hear her answer softly.

"Look, Brucey. Either ya drop the whole you know my name thing or I'm warnin' ya, Mistah J isn't gonna like it too much. Yeah, I'm his _partner__,_ but I'm not here to hurt ya."

Bruce took this moment of vulnerability to question her further in hopes of finding out what the aim was for their infiltration of the ball. He held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks.

"But he is? Will he injure my guests?"

"Not if you're outta the way, honey. Just follow my lead and no one is gonna get hurt."

Harley began walking swiftly down the stairs toward the ballroom and Bruce caught sight of one of their henchmen hurrying away from the foyer, stuffing a pair of pliers in his inside coat pocket. He spoke very softly into the tiny microphone hidden in his molar.

"Alfred. Possible bomb in the foyer. Let's wrap this party up before someone gets seriously hurt."

He caught up with her right as they reached the door and she turned to him one last time.

"Smiles on, Brucey!"

He smiled at her wink, but as she was about to open the doors, someone opened them from the other side. He fought the urge to adopt a defensive stance as he locked eyes for the briefest of moments with the Joker in a cleverly done disguise. He studied his movements, marking each twitch, each pull of a muscle as the Joker looked at Harley before grinning widely, a grin that Bruce knew meant trouble. He started to step forward when Harley seemed to unfreeze and batted her eyelashes at the Joker as she walked past.

"Why hello, sir, am I in your way? Excuse Mr. Wayne and me, if you would, sugar."

He nodded his head at the Joker and placed a hand on her lower back as they entered the room, his ears picking up the soft shuffle of shoes heading toward the foyer. He tilted his chin in Alfred's direction and touched his watch again, this time activating a Batsuit he kept in the library. He steered Harley toward a table.

"You know," he said, leaning close to her, "Harley, I'm kind of intrigued by your whole criminal persona. It's quite…sexy."

She stared up at him wide-eyed, and licked her lips as she began to say something. A slight commotion stopped her, and he turned his head just enough to see an indisposed Edward slide from his chair to the perfectly waxed floor, much to the distaste of several attendees. He swallowed hard once he recognized the tall blonde just inside his peripherals. Selina. He felt relief at seeing her well and then a deep anger at the way things had been left between them. If he was going to be completely truthful, he was even a little hurt that she could just leave and then return nonchalantly, with no care in the world. Either way, when she caught sight of him and Harley, things were about to get messy, so he needed to distract Quinn, now, and escape to the library. Selina never liked to share. Of course, this was the moment Harley leaned toward him and kissed his cheek and he felt his warmth flood his cheeks as they looked at one another.

"I appreciate you saying such things, but forget you've ever met me after tonight. Nothing but trouble will come your way if you try to find me. I won't save you, I won't help you, and I won't be able to …AAAAAAAGH!"

Bruce stood up quickly, placing a firm hand on the small fist currently twisted in Harley's hair. There was a fierceness in Selina's green eyes that when paired with the sneer she wore, was downright vicious. As she gripped tighter, he couldn't help but feel elated that she reacted this way after being gone. He frowned as he realized he didn't know where she'd been, so he turned to her.

"Selina! Where have you been? I have been searching high and low for you, ever since … do you know how worried I've been? I've had Alfred use every tool at his disposal to track you down."

He didn't realize how strained his voice was until the words left his mouth and he hated himself a little for not having better control over what emotions showed. He cleared his throat and remembered Harley. He touched Selina's elbow and gestured away from the table.

"Selina? Could I talk to you in private for just one moment?"

She seemed to hesitate before nodding and they walked several feet away, just out of earshot.

"I don't suppose you'd like to tell me what you're doing with Harley?"

The venom in her voice made him cringe and as much as he wanted to reach for her and hug her close, he didn't feel like he could answer without betraying the sexual relationship of his association with her friend.

"It's...nothing. Where did you go for three months should be the more important question."

He stared at her, drinking in her smooth skin, perfectly set off by the scarlet of her dress as she spoke.

"I just couldn't...Now isn't the time, Bruce. I'm sure you're aware that the Joker is planning some sort of explosion in about fifteen minutes? Apparently, the bird and Two Face are also here running around. Gotta say, that's a bit more than a girl can handle."

"Of course I am aware. I alerted Alfred and activated all the alarms while keeping tabs on each member of my villainous counterparts. Answer me, Selina. Where did you go?"

He had tried to keep the growl from revealing itself in his voice, but he grew frustrated with her dancing around the issue. She ran her eyes over him and he again felt his face flush as she glared at something near his neck.

"What does it matter? You've kept yourself busy with Harley, haven't you? A little rough tumble in the old Wayne mansion probably made those months seem like hours for you. You should probably focus on clearing out all these people, Bruce, preferably before they realize you're the Bat." He hated how cold her voice sounded, but he understood she was hurt. He nodded at her and walked back to the table.

"Miss Clare, I'll beg my apologies at a later date. Something has come up that I must take care of. It was lovely to have met you."

He pressed his lips to her hand before briskly making his way past Alfred, and began stating his plan.

"First and foremost, we must get the guests to safety. Inform everyone that we've met our goal and have the band play one last song and usher them out, swiftly. From what I've gathered, Two-Face and the Joker are working together, rigging up some sort of bomb in the foyer, presumably to make off with the charity proceeds. I have no reason to believe Edward Nigma or Oswald will be any trouble as they have enjoyed the party the entire time. Selina will be…assisting me, I presume and that leaves Miss. Quinn. Keep an eye on her, Alfred. I'm not at all sure what her plan is."

He pushed through the doors to the hallway, loosening his tie as he walked through the first door on his left, a mere 30 feet from the foyer. Books lined the walls and he stopped in front of the large oak desk, which slid back and revealed a staircase. He counted the twenty steps as he took them, shedding articles of clothing as he reached the bottom. One careful press of his palm on a particular panel in the wall and the small, circular room he'd reached lit up. The previous readying of his suit earlier sped up the process of getting properly attired and Bruce knew he was in for a bit of a fight. As his utility belt snapped around his waist securely, Batman sprinted up the stairs, enjoying the stretch of his hamstrings as he took them two at a time.

A slow pull at the library door revealed a large enough crack to slip through unnoticed and Batman crept stealthily toward the foyer, his cape rippling noiselessly behind him. There was one lone stretch of hallway between him and the room, so he crouched as he watched a lone henchman converse with someone unseen. A familiar cackle suddenly rang out from the room and Batman lurched forward as someone bumped into him from behind.

How long had someone been behind him? What was wrong with him that he didn't hear this person sneaking up?

Focus, Batman.

He straightened up and turned to face his newfound company.

A curl of cigar smoke blew into his face from the gnarled lips of Harvey Dent, who slung an arm around his shoulders. Bruce stumbled as the blood drained from his face. Poisoned? How?

Harvey chuckled and half dragged Bruce to the foyer.

"Wondering how we got the drop on you, old pal?"

He wiggled the cigar he held in front of Bruce's face as he fought to focus on it.

"Old Jokey gave me a special cigar just for you and while we enjoy the taste, we flipped many coins to decide what to do. Help bring down the bat, or burn down everything at the party?"

Two-Face shoved the cigar back in his mouth and rummaged in his pocket for the scarred coin he carried. The light flashed off of it and Bruce shook his head to clear his rapidly blurring vision.

"Well, well, well. Looks like the joke will be on you, Bats."

His last moments of consciousness as he fell over involved a blur of an almost comforting shade of green, the rough scrape of rope and a last, chilling laugh, punctuated by a high-pitched moan.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: As this is the last portion of the story, it's quite lengthy and in first person as I felt it worked better for a lot of the scenes. I know it's a change from third person, so hopefully it's not too confusing. I had a lot of fun writing this story, and even with the delays, I think I did okay with all the different characters coming into play. I can't even stop apologizing for the length of time between posts, but I'll be focusing on a new fic in the Batmanverse…tentative title is The Arkham School for Gifted Children near new year. Let me know what you think of the ending/R&R!**

**xoxo Ladyvader99**

**Joker POV**

Harvey's face always delighted me. The cruel twist of his cheeks leading down to his pearly whites always stuck in the jolliest of grins always made me feel like my opinion mattered and as I rubbed my nose, I pointed at his hat.

"Do you really think that's going to fool anyone? What happens when they come face to face with you?"

I let out a shrill laugh, amused by my own cunning wordplay, but Harvey didn't so much as twitch. He simply stood there and I raised my eyebrow.

"Laugh all you want, clown, but tell us your plan. That stupid excuse for a master criminal has all but drunk himself into a coma, and we both know we loathe that pompous fowl."

"So, Harv wants a piece of the pie, does he? I think we can work something out. All I want is the Bat."

"The Bat?"

"For having two faces, Harv, you're slow on the uptake. Tall, dark, handsome? Routinely lands us both in Arkham? The Batsy of my eye will make an appearance. I'm sure of it. Now, here is what we're going to do. Harley is distracting our…host, and we have rid ourselves of the Riddler since he's decided to take a nap. I doubt the bird even cares about the cash, so it's up to you and me. My loyal subjects are wiring up a surprise in the donation room and it's set to cause a raucous in about fifteen minutes. I need you to take out the old man hovering near the punch bowls and grab his keys while I prepare for the Bat. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I brought you a Christmas present!"

I rummaged in my jacket, fingering past a rubber chicken, several chattering sets of toy teeth, and finally produced a cigar for my cosmetically challenged cohort.

"This, my friend, is imported Cuban AND has a special ingredient in the smoke that will knock anyone in breathing range unconscious, not that your face wouldn't do that already, so smoke away!"

I grinned widely as I plucked my suspenders and began to walk away when a thought occurred.

"Oh, and Harvey?"

"What?"

"Meet me in the bomb room in about ten minutes, I'll signal you with a laugh."

I picked up my abandoned tray and stared into the golden hue of the champagne. What a dreadful color. Looked like happiness and flowers, if you asked me. I reached again inside my coat, and located the small bottle I was looking for and quickly divided its contents evenly among the remaining flutes of champagne. Nothing like a dash of new, water based Joker venom to liven up these old cronies!

I cackled at the thought of everyone smiling, from the tightly wound poindexter of a mayor to the annoyingly bubbly reporter, what was her name? Oh, who cares. Time for the show to begin!

I adopted a cheerful manner and a bad British accent and handed each person I passed a glass of champagne with an extra flourish of the wrist. I giggled to myself as I handed my empty tray to the elderly gent Harvey would soon be disposing of and let myself out the ballroom doors. In those five seconds, several things happened. I first locked eyes with the love of my life, steely blue to my altered, contact lensed ones, and then I looked at _her_. Her hair was disheveled, and her dress wasn't sitting at quite the classy angle it was a mere hour ago. Someone seems to have gone above and beyond the call of duty. My eyes narrowed as I pictured her squealing with pleasure at the hands of this man, and I felt the nerves in my hands stretch taut and they began to curl into fists, the better to beat her with. As this fury began to spread throughout my body, a scent invaded my nostrils. I breathed in once, twice, three times and I grinned so hard, it felt like my cheeks would burst with glee.

That spiced smell came from her in waves and it made me crazy. I wanted to choke her then and there, demand why she lied, slit her throat when she told me, and kiss her cold dead lips. Not only did she lie to my face, she probably has no idea Wayne is the Bat. Oh, that girl of mine! So preciously _stupid. _As for him…he touched my most precious possession and although he completes me, something must be done. _No one_ touches my things. I stared into those ridiculously blue eyes and told her silently that she would be punished severely. The satisfaction rippled through my body as she trembled and I knew my message was received. Thankfully the idiot girl also remembered herself and gave me a smile faker than her wig. She batted her eyelashes at me as I held back the urge to kill her and they walked past. As I steeled myself, Wayne nodded at me, a brief recognition appearing in those eyes of his, and I looked right back. It'd be difficult to pull of my new plan, but with Harvey's help, it might be done.

I briskly walked over to the foyer room, the safe surrounded by my fellow lawbreakers and watched them break it open, tinkering with the bomb sitting on the floor, fluid leaking onto a ridiculously expensive (but positively _gaudy_) carpet. You would think these Waynes would have some sense of style! Then again…this particular Wayne dresses like a Bat for giggles. I sat, connecting wires, eyes glazed over as my brain became more preoccupied with that blasted scent.

One could go positively mad.

I quickly rewired the bomb, making sure the timer went off but no actual explosion occurred. As my boys got the safe cracked open, I nodded at them and they set off with the cash as I began to cackle, a low guttural sound, at the almost silent footsteps creeping behind me. As I listened for the rush of air that must be coming, I tensed, prepared to react and sure enough a well placed booted foot came flying at my head and I grabbed it by the ankle, hissing.

"Kitty Cat, you shouldn't have come."

Her startled face was supremely satisfied as I jerked her backward and then forward just as quickly, pulling her wrists to me in a vice grip.

"Apologies, dear Selina, but you might want to sit tight when the show begins."

I pulled her close as I rammed my elbow to the back of her head, delighting in the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. I quickly secured her feet and hands in leftover wire I wasn't needing anymore and propped her against the wall.

Silly cat. Did she really think that just because she arched her back when the Bat petted her, that she was important in the grand scheme of things?

I gasped.

Did she know that her precious Batsy was diddling my pooh bear? Oh my, someone was going to be quite feisty. I almost feel bad for the old girl. I leaned toward her and scratched behind her ear.

Humming happily to myself, I set about pulling one of the ornamental sofas in the room closer to the bomb, noticing that my good for nothing followers had left their tool bag. Was I going to have to kill everyone around here? I nudged the bag with my foot, grinning at the sight of a roll of duct tape, from which I merrily tore a piece off and placed over the sleeping Cat's mouth.

My ears tingled with anticipation as I lovingly touched the sharp edge of a screwdriver, clutching it in reflex as the old, grandfather clock began to chime.

_DONG!_

I drew in a deep breath and started to cackle before a black clad ball of energy pressed itself against me. I disentangled limbs from mine, keeping my face inscrutable as the blonde began to ramble.

"Oh, Mistah J! I was just on my way back to ya, after ditchin' Sel…Babycakes! Why do ya got my sweet old friend all tied up? She was just askin' me a bunch of questions, honest! Let her out, will ya, Mista J?"

DONG!

I felt ice creep into my voice as I turned away from her.

"A bunch of questions about what, Harley? You sleeping with the Batman?"

I looked at her over my shoulder, as the blood drained from her face instantaneously. She began to back away and my lip curled in disgust as she struggled to find words, twisting her fingers as her back hit the wall.

"…B…Well..but, Mr. J, it wasn't lik….but, how'd ya…how…"

DONG!

Ugh, how her voice annoyed me. I slammed a fist into the wall near her ear, hissing down at her trembling face.

"How did I know? I am the Clown Prince of Crime, the Harlequin of Hate, and the Ace of Knaves…none of which are stupid, Harley. You didn't think I'd put three and four together? Hmm?! That god awful scent in your hair gave you away."

I ripped the wig from her head and tossed it behind me, bringing up the screwdriver to her mouth and smiled, albeit a little sadder this time.

"Normally you're a good girl and I could trust you to be quiet, but since you can't even be loyal when I need you the most and bang the first Brucey Goodpants that looks your way, what else can I do with you, Harls? Looks like I'll have to put you out with the cat."

DONG!

A quick tap to the back of her head with the blunt end of the screwdriver did the job and she fell down unconscious without so much as a whine.

I cackled like an old hag as I kicked her lifeless body, eyes widening as she moaned.

"Don't worry, my sweet. You'll see the error of your ways in due time."

My ears tingled with the soft noises of lovers talking in the hallway, well…if ole Hatchet Face Harvey and Batsy counted as lovers. I grinned in anticipation, bouncing on the balls of my feet, screwdriver raised in the air for a light beating.

DONG!

The seconds passed and I felt my rage rise. What in Metropolis was taking so damned long? I decided to go out to the hallway where Harvey was struggling with a falling Batman and tsk'd. The scene was absolutely hilarious as the dark knight's cape kept getting caught under Harvey's tacky shoes and I smirked as I walked back into the room to grab a rope. I ran over different kinds of knots to tie in my head, brainstorming the best way to hang a bat, when it hit me: upside down of course! I howled with laughter as I leaned over the sleeping man of the night.

"My, what large arms you have, Bats!"

I lowered my voice to mimic his gravelly octave.

"The better to catch you with, Joker!"

I peeked at Harvey as I laughed but he didn't even crack a smile! The nerve of these uptight people I call friends. Wait, I don't call them anything. I smacked him on the shoulder and pointed at the door.

"Well, old friend, it's been a real party. Meet with the boys and tell them to give you a quarter of the bounty this evening. Hand them my card."

With a press of a playing card to his palm, I turned my attentions to hanging up my treasure from the exposed dark wood rafters making up the ceiling. I nearly broke a sweat pulling him up there, but after drowning out the last chime of the clock, I spun around my prize, enjoying the way his cape twirled around his sleeping form.

"It's a shame, Bats, it really is. I never thought I'd have to kill you. Was it so much to ask that you not touch my girl?"

He mumbled something and I cupped my ear as I leaned forward.

"What's that, Batsy? Cat got your tongue, hmm? Hee hee, it can't be her, cause she's all tied up herself so perhaps it's that bouncy blonde of mine? Was she tasty, Bats?"

I backhanded his cheekbone, thrilled with the rough edge of pain now ringing through my hand as he twirled back and forth. I grinned at him as I pressed my hands together before feeding him another knuckle sandwich, and then another. It was almost like hitting a piñata. I was really getting into the swing of things when a slight movement caught my eye. Looks like Sleeping Beauty was waking from her slumber. How dare she wake up without a kiss from the prince! I yanked on the ear of Batman's stupid face mask and yanked Harley up by a pigtail until she lurched forward in front of his face. Her eyes began to flutter open and with an angry force, smashed her face against his. There. Now Sleeping Beauty can wake up. She started to cry but before than two tears could squeeze out, I tore off a piece of duct tape, quick as the Flash, and pressed it to her mouth with a kiss.

"Hush now, pumpkin. We can't have you getting so excited. Do you see what you've made me do? Your nose is bleeding, darling."

Tying her ankles and wrists together took little to no time as was setting her in just the right position so she could see both the Bat's face and my own. I didn't need Catwoman's tacky leather messing with my set up so I dragged her just out of view and turned my back to her. Harley quickly dissolved into sobs and I delighted in the way her eyes turned red first before her cheeks followed. I went to pinch one when I heard a groan from the dangling Bat.

"Well, well, well. Rise and shine, sweetheart! It's time to pay the piper! To crack the case! Or shall I do all the talking?"

"…What are you talking about, Joker? Untie me."

"Tsk, tsk. Clearly you don't understand that I am in charge, Bruce. Surprised I know who you are? Of course you're not. You're the world's greatest detective…and the richest man in town. How long have you had to pretend you're an idiot, Bats? My guess is for far too long as you made a doozy of a decision when banging the person closest to me…"

I reached for Harley's limp pigtail again, dragging her forward as she screamed against the duct tape.

"…This stupid little girl who didn't even know who you are. She can't even tie shoelaces, but you know what? While I want to choke her until her lifeless body falls to the floor, while I want to kill her so slowly in front of you, while I want to feel the last breath of life flee from her body…she can get me to laugh. Do you know how much that makes me hate her? No matter. Allow me to tell you how I found out about your little pairings. After the Mayor taunted me with his infallible safe, I immediately decided to empty it in the hopes that you would arrive and I could be the center of your attention for the few minutes it would take for you to overpower me and I could spray my new Joker Venom into your face, just so I could watch it bubble and rot. Instead, this klutzy woman of mine tripped an alarm and we had to run for it before the old Commissioner showed up. How's that daughter of his, by the way? Still having a bad day? Ha ha ha, anyway, slowpoke here got left behind but just as I circled back to check on her, what do I see? A little black bat carrying her off to parts unknown. She had gotten out of worst situations so I returned to the hideout, secure in the fact that she would show up shortly. No, you kept her from me for hours. HOURS! You almost made me kill her as soon as she returned, not smelling of rain, but smelling of shampoo. And then she lied to me. Lied to my face, Bats! I had to punish her and so I did. However, I couldn't let you, lover, get away with doing such things. I had to punish you too, don't you see? Two halves of a whole."

I paused for a moment as a jolt of pain alerted to me to how tightly I had clenched my fists. I turned to look at Harley, who had tears streaming down her face, eyes squeezed shut, head slowly tilting toward her chest. I gently lifted her chin so her eyes met mine and then I slapped her with all the force I could muster.

"Stop hitting her, Joker!"

I whirled around, leaning close enough to smell the breath of him, venomously spitting on his face as I yelled back at him.

"Like you can stop me! Like you can never stop me, Batman. How many times have you tried and failed? It's absolutely orgasmic to see you at my mercy for once and to make you suffer. Do you care for my Harls? Do you? Of course not. She was just a distraction while little Kitty Cat over stepped all over your heart. Hear that silence, Harls? He never cared for you one bit. You were just an empty place to put his pecker. Come here, stupid girl."

I picked her up by the arm and held her in front of the Bat, who was now struggling to get free and I watched as Harley's eyebrows stitched together as their eyes met.

"Look all you want, old girl, but he never wanted you. Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and useless lives. But, as my plastic surgeon always said: if you gotta go, go with a smile."

I turned her just enough so the Bat could see from where he hung and began carefully cutting the skin of Harley's mouth with the sharp edge of the screwdriver I picked back up, matching her neverending smile to mine. No longer would she be sad or crying like she was now, she'd be happy. Happy as a canary in a cage with two hyenas. Her sobs of pain rang out and she thrashed against me as I clutched her throat harder as I cut. I snuck a glance at Batman and his face was frozen, eyes wide with horror as I finished one side and began the other.

"This blood is on you, Batman. Let this be a lesson to not touch my things."

Harley started to shake with sobs, her moans of pain muffled beneath that tenacious piece of tape. As I finished my work, I held her chin, turning her face to and from before pushed her away from me and refocused my attention.

"How many cuts does it take to get to the center of a Bat?"

I jabbed at him, once, twice, and I felt the tool slowly sink into his flesh, coming back bloody the third time.

"Aaaaarghgh!"

I threw my head back and laughed my perfect laugh as I pulled my hand back to plunge the screwdriver deep into his chest, teeth clenched in frenzied victory when I heard a grunt immediately before a karate chop made contact with my neck, effectively catching me off guard. Dazed, I focused on the wiry old man who was supposed to have been incapacitated by Harvey and leapt to my feet, only to be pulled down again by the now untied Selina Kyle.

"Noooo! I'm not finished yet!" I growled and I felt my emotions begin to spiral out of control as I screamed. She made quick work of me, ironically using the same rope I'd used on her. I giggled hysterically at the situation, my shoulders shaking as the paid untied Batman and then bracing myself for the armored fist that knocked me out. I'd be back.

Alfred Pennyworth had called the GCPD the moment Harvey had been out of earshot. The fool had merely stuffed him in a closet, clearly unaware of the damage he could do. Alfred had followed the sounds of the Joker causing his normal chaos and had watched for a moment to strike, a moment that appeared as he mutilated his striking sidekick. He had tip toed into the room and untied a seething Selina before delivering a concise blow to the carotid artery, cursing as he missed it by millimeters. Luckily, Miss Kyle was more than capable of securing the deranged lunatic as Mister Wayne was brought down. A much more accurate punch to the face, subdued the Joker until the police arrived and he was carted away to Arkham Asylum with new orders to be kept sedated at all times.

Harley Quinn paid one last visit to the Joker, saddened to see he was too out of it to even register that she was there. She left him a note saying goodbye that she signed off with an H before leaving Arkham Asylum and glanced once at Gotham City behind her before walking in the opposite direction, intending to start fresh. She lightly touched her healing cheeks and grinned as the leaves began to fall.

THE END!

**A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it and again I apologize for making you wait. I hope the length made it worth it. – ladyvader99**

**UPDATE 12/5/12: I WILL BE WRITING AN EPILOGUE SO THERE IS RESOLUTION BETWEEN HARLEY AND BATMAN 3 **


	12. Epilogue

**Harley POV**

When Mr. J revealed he knew about my activities with the Bat..I'd never felt my face go hot and cold at the same time. How could he have known?! As he spoke, I struggled to find words to explain my actions, but stumbled as I stepped away, tremblin; with fright. Have you ever seen Mr. J angry? Let me tell ya, it's not pretty. It took all my courage and then some more to look him in the eyes, the eyes that were flashing with hatred as he spoke to me. I briefly closed my eyes as he explained how he found me out, mentally kickin' myself for not hidin' everything better. I say briefly, but next thing I knew Puddin' had rapped me over the head with something and I found myself staring at a slowly twirling black mass in the center of the room. I tried to shake my head to rid myself of the stupid grogginess and cried out when I felt my hair bein' pulled. The moment I even tried to open my eyes I felt myself being slammed into something head first and I started to cry at the first iron taste of blood. I hate the way blood tastes! Luckily, Puddin' put a piece of duct tape over my mouth and even gave me a kiss, so I knew he didn't mean it...well, until he started tying my feet and wrists together.

I started to cry again because when he ties me up, that means I'm gonna get punished. When Mr. J turned his back to me, I caught a glimpse of what all the black was about and I felt clammy. It was the Bat. Uh oh.

I didn't even notice how quiet I'd gotten as I strained to listen as Mr. J's voice hit that scary, quiet level he gets. Did he just call Batsy "Bruce"? Richest man in town? Batman was Bruce Wayne? I almost felt the cogs in my brain turn as I started to put things together. Unfortunately for me I didn't have much time to do thinkin' as Mr. J pulled my hair again, but this time it really hurt so I screamed a little. This only made him pull me up harder and I really started to cry, cause oh boy, did that smart. I almost didn't hear Mr. J talk about how he caught me in my lies, and I'm gonna admit to ya, I'm ashamed at all the shoddy lyin' I did. I am! He pulled me up by my hair just a little more and lifted my chin gently to look into my eyes, and then he slapped me. He slapped me harder than he's ever slapped anyone and of course, I cried from the stinging hot pain that flooded the whole right side of my face.

At that moment, I hated my Puddin'. I felt so angry at being hit in front of company, I wanted to scratch his face off. In the middle of all these feelings swirling around, I heard the Bat yell at Mr. J to stop hitting me. I almost crumpled into sobs again 'cause Batsy doesn't know how Mr. J works. That's just gonna make him hit me harder. It was quiet for just a moment and then Mr. J was yelling in Batman's face.

"Like you can stop me! Like you can never stop me, Batman. How many times have you tried and failed? It's absolutely orgasmic to see you at my mercy for once and to make you suffer. Do you care for my Harls? Do you? Of course not. She was just a distraction while little Kitty Cat over stepped all over your heart. Hear that silence, Harls? He never cared for you one bit. You were just an empty place to put his pecker. Come here, stupid girl."

I felt sad hearing this, and while I was sure it was true, it didn't mean it didn't sting a little. I sat there like dead weight, but it didn't matter. Mr. J picked me up by the arm and lifted me in front of Bats and reluctantly, my eyes met his. That bright blue searched my eyes and while he didn't say anything, the way they looked at me spoke volumes. As I looked at him, I felt more and more stupid. They were the same color as Bruce Wayne's. I didn't have time to think much before Mr. J pulled me up to my feet. Wait, did he just say something about plastic surgery? FOCUS, HARLEY!

I furiously started wiggling in the vain hope I'd slip his grasp, but no such luck. My Puddin' has a vice grip and he held me firm as he brandished a screwdriver, twirled it once, and started to scrape the skin near my mouth away. It burned so much and I sobbed as I struggled. He held me still by the throat with one hand, the other still gripped around my arm. When did he get so strong? I fought and fought but it didn't matter. He cut my face on one side and then the other. I tried not to cry as my tears stung the open wounds but it felt like forever until he was done and I slid down to the floor, landing heavily on my side. I watched Mr. J stab Bats several times and my eyes filled again with tears and I felt myself gladly sink into darkness as I passed out.

When I came to, I was in a large bed with my dark-haired friend beside me in a chair, her head restin' on her arms as she slept perched on the bed. I felt weak as I lifted an arm and gently touched her hair. I loved her hair. It was always wild and such a deep black. I opened my mouth to speak but immediately regretted it due to the burning I felt around my mouth. Luckily Selina must have heard something because she lifted her head and looked at me.

"Harley..sometimes I don't know whether to bite you or kiss you. You make a girl go crazy, you know that? I felt like we were friends and I told you how my feelings about Batman made me panic and to hear all of this...it's going to take me a bit to come around. I'm glad you're safe and away from Joker, but for now this is goodbye. I'll hit up you and Red eventually, and we'll have some fun."

She briefly clutched my hand in hers and left and I turned my face toward the window and exhaled.

I always make a mess of everything. Maybe it was time I left this city and started fresh, away from Mr. J, away from Batman.

I threw the blanket off of me and ignored the mild headache I felt as I sat up. I looked around quickly for any of my things, but realized I couldn't very well leave town dressed like a criminal, could I! I was wearin' button up pajamas that were big on me so I padded over to the desk in the room, but the drawer was empty. I made my way to the door and thrust it open, only to be greeted by the tall playboy I'd gotten to know the previous night. I'm gonna say it was all the events that had happened in the past couple days catching up to me that made me burst into tears and sink to me knees. I'm gonna say it was the massive amount of pain I was feeling. I turned away as he knelt near me.

"Harley."

I held out my hand, palm to him and looked away.

"Don't come near me! Nobody was supposed to find out, B-Man. A girl like me, I need some affection to stay sane, ya know what I'm sayin'? I had it all with Mr. J...EVERYTHING a girl could want, and then the other night happened and somewhere it got confused, ya know?"

"Harley...is this about just about sexual intimacy or do you feel something for me? Sometimes it feels like I'm losing control of the situation."

"Everyone wants a thrill, B-Man. If I took a minute to be serious, I'm not prepared for any of this. I'm just a small time girl from Gotham. Even if I felt something for you, it's not like this is gonna work. I think it's best if I leave town altogether."

He made a sudden movement toward me, before stopping and firming his jaw.

"I do find it odd that you have somehow caused me to lose focus and throw all caution to the wind. I couldn't begin to tell you how angry it made me to watch the Joker hurt you because of what we did, and I'm not sorry it happened, but I'm sorry for the results. I hope you'll stay in Gotham and perhaps some time at Arkham will help sort things out so when you pass your competency hearing, you can start fresh here."

I laughed long and hard.

"Oh, B-Man...that's just another reason to leave! Why in Gotham's name would I put on that itchy polyester, only to be treated like a criminal once I get out? The only reason I'll go to Arkham is to say goodbye to Mr. J. After that, I'm hittin' the road!"

I got up and marched myself toward the door, before stopping and turning to Batman

"Honestly I thought maybe we could have something outside of this city, outside of these masks, but even I gotta admit, Mr. Wayne, I'm just a stupid girl. And about your identity...even if I told the world...no one would believe Harley Quinn."

I left in those pajamas, stopping to borrow the phone in the hallway to call Red who picked me up a mile away and she took me to one of our old safe houses. I grabbed some clothes and cash, stuffing my hair beneath a cap, and told Red I would catch her later before hiking out to Arkham Asylum. It didn't take me longer than six minutes to fight my way through the underbrush and into the tunnels we all used to break out of this joint and I found myself in Mr. J's cell looking at him. He was in a straight jacket, sitting with his back to the concrete wall, asleep. I touched his cheek gently and while this would have woken him up immediately, a trickle of drool escaped the edge of his mouth and he murmured gently. I guess the orderlies kept him under now. I took out a piece of paper from my bag and scribbled a note to him.

Mistah J,

Love is a maze, life is a riddle, and I'm just a little bit caught in the middle. I'll be back for ya.

H

I put it in the collar of his shirt and left. I walked away and felt both sides of my mouth. The wounds were healing. I grinned and continued walking.

**A/N: NOW I'm done with the story. Hopefully this helped resolve some things and I don't think I'll return to the story...I might take a break and explore different things, but we'll see :) R&R - Ladyvader99**


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